


Moving On

by elthedane



Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: Absent Parents, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alex is a cop, Bipolar Disorder, Car Accidents, Dark, Depression, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jealousy, Justin hates life, Justin pov, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Pining, Recreational Drug Use, References to Depression, Slow Burn, Step-parents, Step-siblings, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-20 06:32:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 45,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10656885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elthedane/pseuds/elthedane
Summary: Justin Foley fell off the radar for three and a half years and comes back to his hometown to find that everyone has moved on with their lives but him.  Justin wants to get his life back on track and forget about how wrong the past few years went, but playing catch-up is harder than he ever could have imagined.





	1. Where the Chips Fell

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, there is Alex/Justin eventually.
> 
> ** please note that I wrote this before season 2 so nothing in s2 will be mentioned **
> 
> Not many warnings in this one, but they'll be at the bottom anyway.
> 
> Expected update schedule for this fic: I'll try for every week, but I'm a senior rn and have a lot going on. The first few will come out pretty quickly because they're already written, but the last ones will probably take longer. Just so you know.

 

 

Three and a half years. The three and a half worst years of my life, to be exact. Ever since that shit with Hannah Baker, my life had gone steeply downhill. After a while, I just couldn’t take it anymore. I hopped on a bus with nothing but a roll of ones, some clothes, and a gun with nowhere to go and no one to call. As stupid as that was, I knew I’d go crazy if I stayed in that goddamn town for another minute.There was nothing there for me anymore. Now I was free to do whatever I wanted; I could ride the bus as far as my money would take me and figure it out from there. It seemed like a great idea at the time. I would leave all the bullshit behind and start new; I could get to a new town, make some money, chill there for a while and if it sucked, I’d just leave. Rinse and repeat. Simple enough, right? Well, obviously it wasn’t, because almost four years later, I ended up right back where I started.

 

***

 

A knock on my car window broke me out of my fragile sleep. I jerked awake and blinked groggily.

“Excuse me, sir?” A voice asked outside the car.

“Fuck.” I groaned, quickly shoving my weed and bong back into my bag and zipping it up. I rolled the window down with the old-ass hand crank. It stuck halfway down.

“What?” I asked, my voice still hoarse from the rude awakening.

“You can’t park here.” The young cop said, flashing a light inside. I shielded my eyes and pushed my bag under the passenger seat, making sure it was out of view. “Are you sleeping in here?” The blonde cop asked. I looked down at the blanket now wrapped around my hips.

“Is that illegal?” I asked, fully aware of the poorly-hidden hostility in my voice.

“It is in this parking lot.” Was the young cop’s equally cold reply. _Well, fuck you,_ I thought angrily.

“Whatever, man. I’ll go somewhere else.” I said, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I started rolling the window up, but the cop put his hand on the top of the window and flashed his flashlight directly in my face. I groaned and shielded my eyes again.

“Get that fucking thing out of my face! I’m leaving, okay?”

“Justin?” I froze at the sound of my name. The breath escaped my lips slowly. Of course someone would recognize me. I did grow up in this shithole town, after all. “Justin _Foley?”_ Something about the young cop’s voice was weirdly familiar.

“And who the fuck are you?”

“Classy as always. Nice.” The blonde guy said. I opened the car door since the window wouldn’t go down any farther, ignoring the beer bottle that rolled out onto the pavement.

“Do I know you?” I asked, though I definitely recognized this cop from somewhere. My brain was still moving slowly from the gram I smoked before falling asleep.

“Alex Standall. We went to Liberty High together.” Alex said, fidgeting with his flashlight, which was still aimed at me. I shot him a look and he turned it off. “Oh. Yeah. Sorry.”

“Standall. Shit! Yeah! I stayed at your place once.” I nodded slowly, holding onto the side of the car to stabilize myself.

“You okay, Justin?” Alex asked, genuine concern etched on his features.

“Peachy fucking keen.” I answered, too quickly not to be perceived as defensive.

“Well… Parking here is still illegal.” Alex said. “And so is driving high, just so you know.” The judgement in Alex’s voice made anger bubble in my chest.

“You know, I never took you as the cop type.” I said, looking up at Alex. He’d taken his septum ring out. He looked older without it, but more naked somehow. Alex shifted uncomfortably.

“Had to do something, right?” Alex said. I had to chuckle. It seemed aimed right at me.

“Guess so, Standall.”

Alex opened his mouth and closed it again, like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how to spit it out. I couldn’t blame him for that. What the hell do you say to an old classmate you haven’t seen in three years?

“Do you need a ride someplace? Cause you know I can’t let you drive like this.” Standall said. I scoffed. If he would just fuck off, all the problems here would be solved. I shook my head slowly. Surprising how nothing had changed in three years. I was still getting kicked out of one place after another. Rinse and fucking repeat.

“I’m good.”

“Technically, I should give you a ticket. And if the keys were in, I could charge you with impaired driving, but-” Alex explained, tapping the flashlight against the door of the car in a steady rhythm.

“Put your dick away, Standall. I get it, you’re a cop.” I said, suddenly reminded of something my mom had told me once when her deadbeat boyfriend, Seth, and I had gotten into a fight. She told us to quit being little boys and put our dicks away, something like that. _You’re no fucking good for anybody_ , Seth had said that night. It had pissed me off because it was true.

“Like I was saying, that’s what I technically should do, _but_ since I know you, I could give you a ride and let that other stuff go.” Alex offered. He talked like he was walking on eggshells, trying to talk someone down from a ledge.

“Where you gonna drive me, Standall? I’m not a kid anymore. You can’t just drop me off at home and say ‘best of luck’.” I said, getting my keys from the armrest and jangling them at him. “If you’re gonna arrest me, do it.” I put the keys in the ignition and turned the car on, the old motor coughing to life. Alex rolled his eyes and shrugged.

“You’re an asshole.” Alex said, shaking his head. That phrase felt eerily familiar, like I’d heard him say it before. Come to think of it, I wouldn’t be surprised if I had.

 

I drove out of the parking lot and wandered aimlessly around town. The best idea would be to find a park someplace and just crash in my car, but there was something about just… driving that was nice. Technically, I didn’t have a license, so I really shouldn’t be driving, especially not this car, which wasn’t even mine. But that’s a whole other story. Even thinking about the events that led to me riding off in this fucking junky car tired me out.

I don’t know how, but I found myself parked in front of my old building. It looked smaller and more run-down than I remembered, but the memories came flooding back anyway. The old basketball courts next door were where I’d spent most of my time growing up, though one of the backboards was broken and the actual netting had been ripped off a long time ago. It was my escape, the only place I really felt alive. Despite everything I told myself on replay, part of me found it nice to be back.

Without really thinking about it, I had gotten out of the car and stood in the middle of the basketball court, looking at the worn-out nets. I spotted an old ball under a bench and pulled it out. It was flat as shit, but that didn’t really bother me. It felt good to dribble again. I sank a few layups and even a few three-pointers, though my form had really deteriorated in the past few years.

“Fuck off, man! Some people are trying to sleep up here!” Someone yelled from an apartment. I chuckled and shot a few more times.

“It’s two in the fucking morning, asshole!” The same guy yelled. I sank another three-pointer just to prove a point, but then put the ball away and took a seat on the bench.

I stared up at the window of my mom’s apartment, wondering if she was up there right now. I wonder if she’d even thought about me at all. Was she happy I’d left? Did she ever try to go after me? I hadn’t changed my number in case she tried to call, but she never did. Part of me wanted to march up there right now and demand why I’d never heard a single word in almost four years, but the rest of me was too high and exhausted to deal with the emotions that would ensue. I was happy enough to imagine she’d tried to find me, even called the police. Was that what normal parents did when their kids went missing without a word? Probably.

 

***

 

Coming back to your hometown is supposed to be easy. There are supposed to be people excitedly trying to get together with you, blowing up your phone asking how you’ve been. You’re supposed to re-visit your favorite places and try to pretend like nothing’s changed while you talk about your future plans, your new friends, and all the cool stuff you’ve done while you’ve been gone. My homecoming wasn’t like that at all. From what I could tell, everyone had moved on to better things. Everyone but me.

Even the town had moved on. It had almost doubled in size in the three and a half years I’d been gone. New stores, new subdivisions, a second high school, and a new shopping mall were just some of the changes that made me wonder if I was in the right place. There was even a brand-new community college nearby. Great. Just in time to remind me I’d never graduated high school. Fucking fantastic.

I drove by Jessica Davis’ house while I toured the town. I saw her dad watching my car closely as I slowed down in front of the house and immediately lost my nerve. It was summer break, so everyone should be back for the vacation. Maybe if I stuck around for a while, I’d bump into her. The thought of seeing Jessica again made me feel like I was floating. She would’ve forgiven me by now, right? I knew she told me she never wanted to see me again, but she couldn’t have meant, like, _forever_. I’d given her time. Now that everything had settled down, she’d probably be okay with at least sitting down to talk. I’d texted her every once in awhile during my time away, but I guess she just got a new number. Yet another reason to meet up in person.

After circling around the block at least five times, I realized I was never going to stop at her place. I gave up trying to gather up the courage and went to look for something to eat instead. I settled on a Dunkin Donuts. They’d just put one in a newly-built plaza. Besides, it was a good place for cheap food and coffee.

I blasted music through my headphones so no one would get the urge to talk to me while I got through my bagel and coffee. I was famished so it wasn’t nearly enough, but it would have to do if I wanted to keep gas in my car.

I felt someone sit next to me and turned towards them, ready to chew them out.

“Standall? What the fuck?” I said. He made a gesture for me to take off my headphones, so I reluctantly did so. “You stalking me?” I asked.

“You’re at a donut shop and I’m a cop, so who’s stalking who?” Alex asked, sipping at his coffee.

“Still you.” I said, taking a few bites of my bagel and finishing it off. Alex pushed a donut over to me.

“If you want it. I don’t eat donuts, but someone bought it for me.” Alex explained. _Yeah sure_ , I thought, _just like Bryce had extra basketball shoes all the time_.

“I’m good.” I said. Fuck Alex and how he thought I needed his handouts. I’d spent enough of my life feeling like everyone’s charity case. Alex raised his eyebrows but shrugged it off. He didn’t make a move towards the donut, though. He just left it there, taunting me.

“So why are you back?” Alex asked. Straight to the point, as always with Standall. I shrugged.

“Felt like it. Why do you care?” I said. Alex leaned back in his chair.

“You disappeared, Justin. Didn’t tell anyone where you were going. And now you’re back cause you just ‘felt like it’? I don’t buy it.” Alex crossed his arms over his chest. He’d filled out since high school. He was no longer awkward and gangly. Far from it, actually.

“At least I didn’t shoot myself in the head.” I retorted. That got Alex riled. He shifted in his seat, eyes flaring. When he turned, I could see the scarring on the side of his head

“Jesus. And to think I was about to tell you about Jessica.” Alex said, standing up and pushing off the table. He grabbed his coffee as he got up.

“Wait!” I shouted, my voice irritatingly hoarse and desperate. “What about Jessica?” Alex shook his head.

“Come on, Standall! I’m sorry.” I said. I closed my hand around his wrist, holding him back. “Uh… I’ll shut up! It’ll be like I’m not even here!” I cringed as the words came out of my mouth. The same words I used to tell my mom when she wanted me out of the house. Something in Alex’s eyes changed and the anger visibly faded out of his face. He took his seat back.

“Fine.” He agreed. Alex inclined his head towards the donut again and this time I sucked up my pride and took it.

“She ask ‘bout me?” I said through a mouthful of chocolate donut.

“Not for a while now. But she did a few weeks after you left. Wondered where you’d gone.” Alex explained, drinking more coffee. Butterflies danced in my stomach.

“How do I get in contact with her?” I asked, polishing off the donut.

“Uh… She should be home on break. And she works at the new Marshalls in the plaza.” Alex explained.

“New Marshalls... Lots of new shit, huh?” I said. Alex nodded.

“Like the town’s compensating for making people want to kill themselves.” Alex said darkly. He sounded strangely reminiscent of junior year. My stomach twisted at the reminder of those horrible few weeks after receiving Hannah’s tapes, the realization I’d directly led someone to kill themselves. At times, it was still overwhelming. I’d stare up at the sky and wish it would just swallow me whole, let me die. Knowing that I was a terrible fucking human being hurt like a bitch.

“What’s she on break from?”

“Jess’s almost done her undergrad. She wants to go to law school after. The whole Hannah Baker case really affected her.” Alex said. His tone said the rest: _the case you weren’t here for_. The guilt twisted my stomach so I drank some more coffee to settle it down.

“What happened to everyone? After all that Hannah Baker shit?” I asked. Alex did a double-take and his lips tightened in a way I knew all too well. It was that I’d-punch-you-right-now-but-that-would-be-rude face. Usually a quick smile from my part would fix that right up, but I hadn’t felt like smiling for a long time now.

“Well, that ‘Hannah Baker shit’ was a big deal for most of us.” Alex said, air quoting what I’d said. “They testified, turned in the tapes, and uh… the police basically did the rest. I was in a coma for most of it, but I did what I could while I was in rehab.”

“Like for drugs?” I asked.

“No. For the gunshot in my fucking head.” Alex said. I exhaled slowly, feeling like a total dumbass.

“Oh shit. Right.” I laughed nervously.

“Anyways,” Alex continued, his voice becoming more annoyed by the second. “Your pal Bryce was in jail for two years, in case you give a shit about that.” I nodded, thinking it might be better to just shut up for a little while. I was happy to hear that. Bryce fucking deserved it. “And, uh, a bunch of people moved away the summer after graduation. Tyler and his family left for his ‘mental well being’ or something. Supposedly his therapist recommended it. Courtney fell off the map, like you. Zach’s out on the East Coast, playing basketball and studying marine biology.”

“Marine biology? What the fuck?” I asked with a chuckle.

“Yeah. He wants to be a marine biologist. You didn’t know that?” Asked Alex, the accusation clear on his face. I shrugged.

“Never really talked about it, I guess.” I admitted. Maybe Zach and I hadn’t been as close as I thought. Remembering all those times he ignored me when I asked for his help, I figured that was definitely the case.

“Of course you didn’t. Uh… who am I missing?” Alex said, more to himself than to me.

“Sheri? Montgomery?” I supplied. Alex’s eyes flashed at the mention of the latter boy’s name. “Uh… Jensen?”

“Sheri wants to be a nurse. She’s studying at the new college a few minutes away. Clay’s at Caltech.” My eyebrows raised on their own accord when Alex told me about Clay. Well, fuck. Geeks are actually smart. Who knew?

“How about Marcus?”

“He’s at some fancy college up north. I haven’t really kept up with him or your other friend, Montgomery.” Alex said with a shrug. I couldn’t help but remember that time Alex and Montgomery had gotten into a fight in the middle of the street. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

“If you want to know, why don’t you just ask them yourself?” Alex asked. Good question. I didn’t really know why. I’d texted them a few times and never got a reply, so that had put me off pretty damn fast. But I could find out if I really wanted to, given that I still followed them on social media.

“So everyone’s moved on, huh?” I asked, spinning my coffee cup idly between my hands.

“It would seem so.” Alex said.

I should’ve been happy for them. Most of them had been my friends at some point, after all. But hearing about everyone else’s success just made me feel worse about myself. I imagined the conversation they would have. “Whatever became of Justin Foley?” someone would ask, “Oh he’s homeless and living in a stolen car after he tried to reconnect with his drug dealer dad and got told to fuck off. What a guy!”. I needed a fucking job. Maybe I could get some construction gig. I knew some people who could hook me up.

“Justin?” Alex was asking, clearly expecting me to answer a question of some sorts.

“Uh… What?” I asked. Alex rolled his eyes.

“I said: Are you going to talk to Jessica?” He said. I took a deep breath and smiled as I let it out. It was a real smile, the first one in almost two years.

“I’m not just gonna talk to her, I’m gonna get her back.”

 

 


	2. The Way it Goes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin tries to track down his mom and visits Jessica at work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short! The next one is longer I promise (and will probably be out this weekend as well because this one is so small).
> 
> Happy Friday!

A lot of things in life sound way better in theory than when you actually live through it. Having uninvolved parents is one of those things. Growing up, I would hear shit like: “you’re so lucky your mom doesn’t care if you smoke weed”, or “I wish I could stay out late all the time like you”. Yeah, it sounds like it would be a good time, sure, but it comes at a price. Being able to drink and smoke all you like comes at the price of never having someone cheer you on at sports games, having parents who care more about the TV than if you ate that night, getting a simple shrug when you explain that none of your clothes fit anymore, and never receiving so much as a phone call when you disappear for three years. 

I tried to calm my breathing as I walked up the steps of my old building. I imagined the reunion in my head: teary eyes, a promise to do better, a long hug. I took the steps two at a time and knocked on my mom’s door. 

“What?” A voice asked. I didn’t recognize the man it came from; I could only see his eye through the small opening allowed by the chain on the door. Funny, we’d never had a chain on the door. 

“Uh… I’m looking for Laryssa Foley.” I said, my mom’s full name sounding weird on my tongue. 

“Who’s asking?”

“Her son. Justin Foley.” I said. I tried to peek around the guy to see if she was on the couch or something. 

“She doesn’t live here anymore.” The man said. 

“What?” I demanded, my voice rising half an octave. “Wh- What? When did she move?” 

“Uh, I think she - Fuck. One sec.” The man said, shutting the door. I heard the sound of a chain sliding, then he opened the door wide. A dog barked behind him, trying to get to me. “Thor, you dumb fucker. Get back here.” He said affectionately, rubbing the dog’s head. 

“What were you gonna say about my mom?” I prodded. 

“Oh yeah… Mark!” He yelled at someone I couldn’t quite see. “Mark?” The man swore under his breath. “I don’t really remember Laryssa. Mark would probably know when she left, though.”

“Would he know where she went?” I asked, my voice cracking. 

“Calm down, kid. Do I look like Mark to you?” The man at the door said, shaking his head in disappointment. It reminded me of the way my mom did that whenever I asked something she deemed as ‘not her problem’. 

“What is it, Craig?” A big guy I assumed was Mark asked, lumbering out from one of the bedrooms. 

“This kid says he’s Justin Foley. Laryssa’s kid.” Craig said, gesturing towards me and shrugging. My throat had tightened so much I could barely breathe. 

“If you could tell me where she went, I-” I clamped my teeth down on my bottom lip to keep it from shaking. Even so, my voice was wavering enough that these guys probably thought I was crying anyway. 

“Fuck. Don’t freak out. She’s still around, I think. Moved in with some guy. Got married, maybe. I didn’t know her that well.” Mark said, looking over at Craig for verification. I nodded and tried to look unfazed. 

“She would’ve told me.” I croaked. A large, strong hand wrapped itself around my shoulder. 

“It’s okay, kid, she probably tried to.” Mark said. For such a big guy, his voice was kind. It made part of me wish he could’ve been my dad instead of my real one. I shook my head repeatedly. 

“No. No. No. I didn’t change my number… I wanted her to - I didn’t change my number.” I said, my head shaking constantly like one of those stupid-looking dolls people put in their car windows. Maybe if I never stopped denying it, this guy Craig would eventually laugh and say I was right and it was all a big joke. I blinked fog out of my eyes

“How old are you?” Mark asked. He sounded out of his depth, like he’d rather be anywhere else but here with this young guy making an ass out of himself.

“Nineteen.” I said, “Almost twenty.”  

“Still a minor, then.” Craig said, exchanging a look with Mark. Mark made a small gesture of surrender. 

“Uh… What if Mark finds her new address for you? Would that be good?” Craig asks, like talking to a little kid. I cleared my throat and stood up straight, trying to offer a nonchalant smile. I felt it crumble immediately.  _ Get your shit together,  _ I told myself.

“That would be fine, yeah.” I said. 

I watched Mark retreat to the kitchen and rummage around. Not much had changed since I had lived here. It was a little cleaner, and the stuff lying around wasn’t ours, obviously. Craig or Mark or whoever actually owned the place had opened up the curtains for once, something I’d rarely seen done. It smelled different, too. The musty smell of cigarettes, unwashed bodies, and pot had been replaced with that of overcooked meat and wet dog. It was weird. I didn’t like it at all. 

“You okay, kid? You look like you’re gonna throw up.” Craig said. I nodded. 

“Yeah. I’m fine.” 

“Wanna come in?” Craig asked. His eyebrows were creased in concern. I wasn’t quite ready to see more of the changes made to the apartment I’d grown up in. 

“No. Thanks.” I said. Craig shrugged in a suit-yourself sort of way before Mark came jogging up behind him. 

“She’s in the trailer park off Huntington Street. Address is right here.” Mark said, handing me a folded piece of paper. I nodded numerous times. 

“Thanks.” I said, holding up the paper at them. 

I waited until the two men had closed the door before sinking down onto the staircase. I leaned my chin on my knees and stared at the exit door I’d gone through a million times. How could my mom not have told me she moved? Was my phone broken this whole time and all those people I’d thought were ignoring me were actually texting me? No. I had gotten some texts, just not the ones I wanted. And if she’d gotten married… Who the fuck would get married without inviting their own goddamn son? And who would she have married? My mom wasn’t exactly the marriage type. 

My legs were jelly as I made my way down the stairs. It just didn’t make sense. None of it made any sense. 

 

***

 

Despite all my better judgement, I went to Marshalls to see if Jessica was working. I knew going to see Jess right after receiving this sort of news was the worst thing I could do, but it only made me want to see her more. It was almost a reflex, like pulling your hand back from a hot stove. Anytime some bad shit happened, Jess was the first person I wanted to tell. Even when I hadn’t seen her in years, the reflex was still there. 

When I saw her, I almost sank to the floor right there in the fancy-ass store. She was hanging dresses back on the racks, her hair tied in a messy ponytail behind her head. She was as beautiful as ever. Suddenly I didn’t even care that I hated stores like these, where everyone looked like they shit diamonds and everyone who didn’t was a second-class citizen, stores where I felt like I’d be broke for the rest of my life if I accidentally knocked a single thing over. All I cared about was the girl standing only a few feet from me. 

“Hey. Uh - Where would I find the staff phone number aisle?” I asked, coming up on the other side of the dress racks. Jess laughed but didn’t look up.

“Hm. Right next to the nice try aisle, I think.” Jess said. It was my turn to laugh. She looked up immediately at the sound.

“Justin?” Jessica asked, her face splitting into a smile. That smile melted my insides, spreading warmth to every inch of my body. I couldn’t keep track of how long I’d longed to see that fucking smile again. I ducked under the dress rack to get to the other side of it, sequins and lace catching in my sweater.

“Hey, Jess.” I said. My voice shook like it couldn’t believe what it was saying. I stood in front of her for what seemed like ages until she finally leaned forwards and we wrapped our arms around each other. I buried my face in her neck like I used to and for the first time since I came back to town, it felt like I was home. 

“What are you doing here?” Jessica said slowly as we pulled away. I think my face showed my sudden disappointment because she backpedalled. “I mean, I guess I’m glad that you are, but… I don’t know. When did you get back?” 

“Two nights ago.” I said.

“Listen, Justin,” She started, her hand grazing my arm. “The last time we talked, I… I said some stuff to you that… Well, I was so mad at you and I was such a bitch-”

“Hey, hey, no. Don’t say that.” I said, pulling her back. “What I did was horrible, and I’m so fucking sorry, Jess. I just-” I wanted to rest my head against her shoulder, but I doubted Jess was ready for that. I settled with touching my fingers to hers. She nodded a few times. “I deserved it.”

“It was a long time ago.” She said, running her fingers under her eyes to make sure her makeup hadn’t run. She looked different now; her hair was longer, and she was wearing more makeup than I’d seen since we first started dating. It was a good kind of different.

“I got a job yesterday.” I said, suddenly. I put my hands on her shoulders, just happy to be touching her again. 

“Really? Where?” She asked. A prideful smile grew on my face. 

“Here in town. Some construction shit. A friend of my basketball coach has his own company.” I explained. Jess nodded. 

“You’re still playing basketball?” 

“Uh… Not really. I meant my old basketball coach. At Liberty.” I said. 

“You didn’t play in college?” Jess asked, nudging me like we were in on a joke together. Like I was supposed to laugh because I’d forgotten, because of course basketball team captain Justin Foley played in college. I stammered a little and couldn’t look her in the eye. She was going to law school, for fuck’s sake! And I was supposed to, what, tell her that I never graduated high school but I’d at least gained some valuable work experience peddling drugs? 

“I never actually went.” I admitted. The way her face fell was like a stab wound to the chest. She quickly covered her reaction with a small smile. 

“Lots of people don’t go.” She said. That was what everyone said when they wanted to make you feel better but really thought you were throwing your life away. 

“Alex told me you want to be a lawyer.” I deflected, fiddling with the sleeve on one of the dresses on the rack. 

“Yeah. I do.” Jess said. “Alex the cop, huh? Who would’ve guessed?” I shrugged. 

“Isn’t his dad a cop?” I asked. It seemed normal for people to end up doing the same thing as their parents. 

“Yeah, but Alex never wanted to be one. His dad wanted him to, but… I don’t know.” Jess sighed. I nodded, but really didn’t want to talk about Alex Standall right now.

“So… Do you think we could, ah, get coffee sometime? Or hot chocolate? Whatever.” I said. I tried to gauge her reaction but couldn’t figure it out for the life of me. “Or we could just get drunk?” I offered. As I’d hoped, Jess smiled. 

“I wouldn’t say no to a drink or two. Where are you staying?” Asked Jessica.  _ Fuck _ . All the blood rushed to my head and I exhaled slowly. 

“Uh. Motels and shit.” I lied. “I’m still looking for something in town.” I fiddled with a different dress and Jess lay a hand on mine to still it. 

“How about you text me. We’ll figure it out.” Jess said. 

“Same number?” I asked. Guilt immediately lit up Jessica’s features. 

“Uh. Yeah. But about that, your texts-”

“Don’t worry about it.” I said, quickly. I couldn’t deal whatever excuse she was going to throw my way. Nevertheless, I felt like I was walking on a cloud. It had gone exactly as I’d hoped. Jess hadn’t spit on me, hit me, or told me she hated me. Compared to the last time we talked, this was good. No, this was perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: None! Language I guess, but you'd have to be a major pussy to be offended by this chapter (no offense or anything lol)
> 
> Comments and suggestions appreciated as always.


	3. The Replacements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin goes to his mom's new address and doesn't like what he finds. He needs to talk to someone about it and can't think of anyone but Alex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick update, as promised. And I meant what I said with "slow burn". It is very slow. But it's not the destination, it's the journey, amirite?
> 
> Next update probably next weekend.

Trailer parks have always freaked me out. My mom only dated one guy who lived in a trailer park and he was everything you would expect; he was an angry dude with a pot belly who’d wear a wife beater, drink too much beer, and laugh way too loudly. He also wore a ridiculous amount of fake gold rings that made green stains around his fingers. That loser basically ruined trailer parks for me. I imagined this new guy as being the exact same, except somehow louder and angrier. 

I drove slowly down the street lined with mobile homes, looking out for number 33. Some of the distaste I had for trailer parks faded away as I saw a group of kids run by my car with a basketball in hand. I wondered how many of them would end up like me. I found myself hoping those kids enjoyed their young years while they could, before those blissful times of not caring about anything were gone for good. Soon those little boys would grow up and actually have to deal with all the shit they’d been filing away in some dark corner of their minds all their lives.

I almost passed number 33 because I spotted a swingset in the backyard. I reverse parked so I could leave quickly if I had to. I even sprayed on some cheap cologne I’d stolen from a friend of my dad’s to mask the I-live-in-my-car-and-smoke-a-lot-of-weed smell I noticed was hanging around. While I climbed up the short steps, my eyes were fixed on that swing set. Sure, it looked like a safety hazard, but I’d always wanted one as a kid. That was one of the good things about mobile homes compared to apartments, you didn’t rely on public places for nearly every source of entertainment. 

I wasted at least a minute on the top step, pretending to be very interested in a dandelion growing between the wooden planks. I toed it with my shoe until the yellow top fell off, leaving a bright smear on my sole. I swore and rubbed it off against the leg of my jeans.  _ Okay. You’ve wasted enough time _ , I thought, trying to summon the courage to knock on the door. I could hear one of those lame game shows playing on the TV and suddenly my heart was in my throat. Why was I so nervous? This was my mom. Then again, we hadn’t left things on a good note. The same mental image of our potential emotional reunion played through my head. 

I let my breath out quickly and knocked, blood pounding in my ears.

“Yeah?” A man opened the door and leaned on the frame, keeping a tattooed arm on the door handle. He had a thick beard and curly brown hair framing surprisingly kind hazel eyes. 

“Uh… I think I have the wrong address. I’m sorry.” I said, shaking my head. Maybe I couldn’t go through with this, after all.

“33 Kirkland?” The guy asked. I checked the paper again, though I knew that was exactly what it said. 

“I’m looking for Laryssa Foley.” I managed. The sound of blood rushing around my head intensified. 

“Sure. What for?” Beard Man said. My mouth was dry as a fucking desert. This guy didn’t look like a complete asshole. I checked the paper again. The address was right. 

“I’m her son.” I said hoarsely. His eyebrows shot up so high it would’ve been fitting for a cartoon character. It would’ve been funny if that didn’t mean he had no idea who I was. 

“Uh. Come on in-” He said, waving me in.

“Justin.” I supplied.

“Okay, Justin. Come on in.” Beard Man closed the door behind me. My eyes adjusted to the darker surroundings fairly easily. It wasn’t as dark as my old apartment had been. The wallpaper was old and peeling in places, but everything seemed to be in okay condition. The kitchen was bigger than the old one, and I spotted a loaf of bread on the counter. That was unusual. There was still shit strewn around everywhere, but none of it looked familiar to me. The smell wasn’t quite the same, either. The cigarettes were still present, but I couldn’t detect any pot, nor did I spot a single bong. What the fuck? 

“Laryssa? I think you should come over here.” Beard Man said tentatively, like he was scared a bomb was about to go off. Actually, he wasn’t too far off. If I wasn’t in shock, I probably would have been beyond pissed. 

“What for?” Came the all-too-familiar voice from what I assumed to be the TV area. My knees buckled, but I straightened up and shook it off, swallowing down the nervous lump growing in my throat. 

“Hi, Mom.” I said. I heard the distinct sound of shuffling and someone getting up from a couch. My mom appeared around the corner, wearing an oversized men’s tee shirt, shorts, and no shoes. I couldn’t help but run to her and wrap my arms around her. She didn’t quite reciprocate the hug, but didn’t push me off either. 

“Justin.” She greeted. I kept my arms around her, silent tears squeezing their way out of my eyes. Her hair smelled the same as it had before. 

“Mom. I’m so sorry.” I breathed into her neck. She squirmed a little as the hug went on longer than she wanted, but she never pulled away. Her collar was wet where my face had been and I finally stepped back, wiping the sleeve of my plaid shirt across my face. It hadn’t quite turned out as I imagined it, but it wasn’t the worst case scenario either. 

“Laryssa?” Beard Man asked. His voice was calm but I could hear the undertones of  _ what the fuck _ . 

“Justin, this is Carl.” My mom said, gesturing between us. “Carl, my son, Justin.” 

Carl extended his hand for me to shake and I did so, trying hard not to wince at the death grip he presented me with. 

“Are you married to this guy?” I blurted. Mom’s expression flickered but ended up returning to her usual apathetic self. 

“Yes.” She said, holding up her hand. There was indeed a ring on it. I felt my knees give way and ended up finding myself on a kitchen chair. 

“Are you fucking serious?” I asked. I think Carl and my mother were saying something to me, but I was lost in my own head, wondering just why I hadn’t been told this information before. “Are you fucking  _ serious _ ?” I repeated, louder this time. Both Carl and my mother froze. 

“We eloped about a year ago.” Carl explained. I couldn’t look at him, though. I was too busy staring at my mom, trying to make her understand the betrayal and anger flowing through my body. She wouldn’t meet my eyes. 

“And you didn’t tell me?” I asked. She kept her eyes averted, purposely looking in a complete other direction, like I didn’t exist. “Mom! Why didn’t you fucking tell me?” My voice cracked. 

“You left, Justin.” She said with a shrug, like that explained everything. 

“I left because you fucking  _ kicked me out _ ! Remember that? Remember Seth?” My voice rose and wavered, switching between too angry to feel and too heartbroken to be angry. “Mom? You never called. You never even asked where I was. What the fuck?” My breathing sounded raspy and wet and I cleared my throat. I knew my mom hated when I cried. 

“What do you want me to say?” She said, her gaze level. It was somehow worse that way, with me being the only one upset. It would’ve been easier if she was angry at me for leaving. Then again, everything would have been easier if she gave a shit. 

“Did you even care that I left?” I asked in a small voice that wasn’t my own. Mom shot me a look I couldn’t quite read. 

“You’re my son.” She said. 

“That’s not what I asked.” I retorted. My hands shook in my lap, but I couldn’t tell if I wanted to punch a person or just throw something. 

“Carl. I need to talk to my son alone, please.” She told her  _ husband _ . I could feel the hatred in my own eyes follow him. 

“Sure. I’ll tell Derek, too.” Carl said.

“Yeah. Make sure he stays in the living room.” Mom agreed, taking a seat in one of the kitchen chairs across from me. 

“Who’s Derek?” I asked. 

“Don’t worry about him.” Mom waved a hand dismissively. 

‘Who the fuck is Derek?” I repeated. Mom sighed and I knew she wasn’t going to answer me.

I pushed myself off the table and marched past my mom into the room Carl had disappeared into. I stopped dead in my tracks. It was a normal living room complete with an old TV, a ratty couch, and empty beer bottles littered on the dirty coffee table. It was all normal except for one thing; some fucking kid was sitting on the couch, a game controller in his hands. I felt my eyes burn and my throat seized up. 

“Is he your fucking kid?” I asked, waving a hand in  _ Derek’s _ direction. Mom tilted her head to the side, the way she did when she thought I was stupid beyond belief. 

“You left three years ago. He’s eight. Do the math.” She said. At least she knew how long I’d been gone. 

“Then who the fuck is he?”

“Carl’s son.” She answered. 

Sensing we were talking about him, Derek turned his head in our direction. 

“Hey, Mommy, I killed fifteen zombies!” He announced, pointing to the TV. 

“Good job, kid.” My mother said. To this fucking eight-year-old that wasn’t even hers. Something she’d never even told me. Good job, kid.  _ Good job, kid?  _

“Good job, kid?” I echoed. She raised her eyebrows at me, like I was retarded. “He’s not even your kid and you let him call you ‘Mommy’ and tell him he’s doing a good fucking job?” Not to mention, 15 zombies wasn’t the least bit impressive. My mother sighed.

“Jesus, Justin. I know that you’re angry…” 

“Angry? Yeah, I’m fucking  _ angry _ .” I said.  _ Don’t cry, Justin, that won’t help you _ , I told myself repeatedly, biting my bottom lip. “You replaced me.” 

“Don’t be dramatic.” Mom sighed, rolling her eyes and running a hand through her hair. She closed the door to the living room and led me back to the kitchen table.  _ This is it _ , I told myself,  _ this is when she’s finally going to make everything okay _ . I waited for her to start the conversation, the same one I had imagined in my head only about a thousand times. Minutes passed, each as quiet as the last. Finally, I had to break the silence. 

“Why didn’t you call me? Like, ever?” I asked, still barely holding back the emotions clawing at my throat. 

“Communication is a two-way street.” My mom said calmly. “You have a phone.” 

“I  _ did  _ call. You never answered.” I retorted. 

“I moved.” She said, gesturing around the mobile home. 

“Yeah, no shit. Except somehow I was supposed to find out about that and call you first, is that it?” I demanded. My mom’s expression didn’t change. “Un-fucking-believable.” 

“Are you done?” Mom asked, tucking a lock of her dark hair behind one ear. My chin trembled and I wanted to scream at her. I wanted to yell until she finally decided to care. 

“No, Mom, I’m not.” I said, but I couldn’t think of anything else to say. 

We just sat there for a while, neither looking at each other. I ran my finger along the pattern on the cheap plastic table. I could feel my mom looking at my hand as it moved. I wished she would just say something, admit she was wrong and that she fucked up in the way she raised me; I wished she would tell me that I was right about Seth being an asshole, or that she never should have picked him or any of her other boyfriends over me. But she stayed silent as the grave on the other side of the table. 

“Say something.” I finally pleaded. 

Except she never did. 

 

*** 

 

**Justin: Hey Jess, its Justin. Call me?**

**Justin: This is the rite number, rite?**

**Justin: Call me pls?**

 

I fought off the rising feeling of deja-vu and turned my music up. My hands were still shaking from the visit to my mom’s earlier.

There are two distinct types of anger. There’s hot anger, where the blood rushes to your face and you shake and cry and want to hit things. Then, there’s cold anger. Cold anger is when all the feeling leaves you and you’re just… angry. Hollow, sad, and pissed at the world. 

I had passed from hot to cold. I had exhausted all the violence coursing through my veins by going for a drive and blasting music as loudly as these crappy speakers would allow. Now I just wanted to get high. I only had a little bit of weed left, so I had to make it last. Smoking it in a bong is the best way to get the most out of it, so that’s exactly what I did.

I was in that post-smoke state of staring at inanimate objects and enjoying the music, when I realized there was still someone else I could talk to in this town. Alex Standall. It was a gamble, sure, since I was pretty sure he hated my guts. But he’d been nice to me before, so maybe this would be one of those times. I wasn’t even sure the number I had saved in my phone was still the one he used, but I dialed it anyway and waited for the ringing noise. Someone could make a fucking song out of that ringing noise. It was pretty great. 

“Hello?” Alex answered. 

“Oh shit! It’s the right number.” I said, laughing. 

“Are you high?” Alex asked immediately. 

“Why would you think that?” I asked, staring at my fingers as I curled them around the steering wheel over and over again. 

“You’re talking really slowly.” Alex said. 

“Are you judging me, Standall?” I asked, chuckling under my breath. “That’s rich from a guy whose last name sounds like ‘Scandal’. Nevermind, that was a really shitty diss. What the fuck?” I laughed a little more. 

“Why did you call me, Justin?” Alex sighed exasperatedly. 

“Cause my mom is a bitch.” I said, enunciating each word. Alex sighed again on the other line. 

“Where are you?” Alex asked. 

“In some fucking park. Where are  _ you _ ?”

“At home. I’m off today.”

“Is it okay if I come over?” I asked, my heart pounding.

“Are you gonna ask to sleep in the garage?”

“What?”

“Nevermind. Yeah, you can come.” Alex said. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. 

“Thanks, Officer.”

“Oh fuck off.”

 

Alex lived in a nice neighbourhood. It was the kind of neighbourhood that you imagined perfect little families living in, with both parents still together and nice kids that would go to college and a big, friendly dog. His parents had fixed him up an apartment in their basement. It had its own door so he could come and go as he pleased. I wondered what it would be like to have a house this big all to your family. What would you even do with all that space? At least it wasn’t Bryce’s house, though, with almost entire rooms dedicated to one large, expensive item of furniture (I’m looking at you, absurdly huge piano). 

“So… What’s up?” Alex asked as he pulled the door open and led me to his living room. I sank into his couch. 

“Mmmm. I’m just-” I shook my head slowly, the events of the morning playing over in my head. “What the fuck?” 

“‘What the fuck’, what?” Alex asked, handing me a beer. I took it gladly and didn’t even make a comment about how funny it was that a cop was handing a drink to a minor. The same minor who had driven here while perhaps a little bit under the influence of marijuana...

“I have a stepdad.” I said, finally. 

“Oh shit.”

“And a stepbrother. Some eight-year-old little shit.  _ Derek _ .” I punctuated my sentence by angrily taking a swig of beer. I shook my head some more. “What. The. Actual. Fuck?” 

“A lot can happen in three and a half years.” Alex shrugged. I glared at him, but his expression never changed. 

“Fuck you, Standall. You don’t get it.” 

“I don’t get that a lot can happen in almost four years? Seriously?” Alex laughed, harsh and cold. “Four years ago I was fine. I was a junior in high school who loved music and had friends. Now I’ve fucking shot myself in the head, survived, and am now doing my dad’s job. Which I never fucking wanted to do in the first place, just so you know.” 

“Then why’re you doing it?” I asked. The high was starting to wear off and it was being replaced by a wave of exhaustion. 

“It’s complicated.” Alex said. He took a seat next to me and cracked open a beer of his own. “He paid for my recovery and got this whole thing set up for me when I got better. He pulled some strings to get me to graduate and start the police academy right away. He was so excited about it, too. What was I supposed to do, spit in his face?” Alex sounded so sad and conflicted that I felt like I should say something profound, or at least offer a side-hug. I didn’t, though. I just nursed my beer and stared at my hands. 

“Yeah. That is complicated.” I agreed. My dad had offered me a job, too. It was quite the opposite of police work, but still. Alex sighed and slowly drank his beer. I still remembered the time Bryce and I made Alex and Jensen chug beer beside the convenience store. My mind smiled at the memory even if it didn’t make it to my face. 

“He called her ‘Mommy’. And he’s eight. Fucking pathetic.” I said, not quite sure how that had popped into my head. 

“You probably did, too, back then.” Alex said. 

“No. My mom didn’t like it.” I said, shaking my head. My beer was empty and I immediately wished I’d taken it a little slower. At least then I’d have something to do. “But she didn’t seem to care when that little  _ fuckwad _ said it.” 

Alex wasn’t saying anything, just watching while I talked. I wasn’t sure if it was comforting or disconcerting. 

“You know what she fucking said? ‘Good job, kid’. When he killed some zombies in a fucking videogame!” My hand tightened around the beer bottle, shaking as I spoke. “You know what she said when I won a real-life basketball game? Nothing! No ‘good job, Justin’, nothing! She’d ask me to get her a beer, then fuck her boyfriend of the day in the next room while I put music on to drown it out. That was my ‘good job, kid’. Fuck!” I violently sank back into the couch and put my hands over my head, trying to slow my breathing. I forced myself to keep my shit together in front of Standall. 

Alex put a tentative hand on my forearm and I didn’t pull back. I laughed bitterly, the sound coming out raw and distorted. I cleared my throat. 

“If it helps at all, my dad hardly ever tells me he’s proud of me, either.” Alex said, his hand still resting on my shoulder.  “Even when I do everything he asks, he still-”  _ What? Doesn’t say he loves you and you’re his favourite little boy when he tucks you in at night? Doesn’t hook you up with your dream job rather than  _ just _ being a cop?  _ I was suddenly reminded of my own dad, the way he’d thrown me under the fucking bus and left me to die when that deal went bad. I spoke without thinking:

“Yeah, I really pity you and your perfect family and your nice little house, and your dad who clearly loves you and gets you jobs, like -” Alex suddenly stood up, his eyes blazing. 

“You know what, Foley? You don’t have a monopoly on having bad shit happen in your life! It’s not trademarked to only you, funny enough! If it’s my pity you want, fine, you got it.” Alex said. “You know, I do feel bad for you. Always have. But not ‘cause you had a shitty upbringing. I feel bad for you because all you do is think about how rough you have it and never take any goddamn responsibility!” I froze, willing myself not to punch him. I focused on my fists clenching and unclenching so I wouldn’t have to deal with how much his words hurt. 

“I’m not looking for anyone’s fucking pity, Alex,” I spat,  “I’m just saying -”

“That I can’t be unhappy because my life is all rainbows and unicorns? Yeah, I know what you’re saying. But newsflash, Justin, nobody’s life is perfect. You get what you get, and you have to suck it up and deal with it.” Alex said. 

“Sure. Like Hannah Baker dealt with it? Like  _ you _ dealt with it?” I snapped. Now it was Alex’s turn to look like he wanted to punch someone -- namely, me. “Don’t lecture me, Standall. Your shit stinks too.” 

“Fuck you, Justin. You haven’t changed a bit.” Alex huffed in disbelief. “I was trying to be nice.” 

“Well, you’re not the best at it.” I retorted. Again came that look. That I-really-want-to-see-your-brains-splatter-on-my-wall look. I sighed. I had really fucked this up. Now Alex was going to kick me out. Fuck me. 

I waited for it. I waited for the angry ‘get the fuck out’ that would usually come in this sort of situation; the situation in which I pissed off the person I was supposed to be thanking. I wasn’t sure if he was expecting me to take his silence as my cue and leave on my own or if he was actually not that mad at me. 

“I’m sorry.” I said. “I shouldn’t have said that shit… uh, I dunno, about Hannah Baker and…  that whole thing.”

“Yeah. You shouldn’t have.” Alex said. He was still angry. I could hear it. 

“Cause I don’t really know you or your family, so…” I shrugged, not sure where my thoughts were taking me. Alex seemed to get the idea, though, because he nodded. 

“‘S’okay.” Said Alex.I was surprised at his nonchalance. 

“Really?”

“Yeah. Whatever. I’m the one who lost my shit.” Alex said. But the disappointment on his face hurt anyway. Especially since I knew I’d put it there. I imagined him wondering what more he’d expected from the asshole who once said Hannah Baker killed herself for attention. 

“Uh. I should go. Sorry.” I said, getting up and straightening my sleeves. 

“You don’t have to.” Alex said. I felt my eyebrows raise sky-high. 

“For real?” I asked.  _ Cause I acted like a total dick _ , I wanted to add. Alex just shrugged. 

“Yeah. I have a lot of food. And, no offense or anything, but you really need a shower.” Alex said, in his typical brutally honest fashion. I blinked at him. How the fuck would someone  _ not _ get offended by that? 

“Uh...Thanks. I think.” I said. Alex exhaled through his nose, that kind of half-laugh people do when something’s not quite funny enough to merit the real thing. 

“Bathroom’s that door, there. And there’s a bunch of stuff in the fridge you can heat up.” Alex gestured around vaguely and collected the empty beer bottles. 

“Thanks, Alex.” I said, meaning it this time. He smiled so microscopically I might have hallucinated it. 

 

After a long overdue hot shower and microwaved pizza, Alex set up an air mattress on the floor. 

“Hey. You don’t have to do that. I can stay in my car.” I said. Alex raised his eyebrows at me. “Really. I don’t mind. I’m used to it.” I shrugged. 

“That’s…” Alex started, his mind no doubt working to find something non-hurtful to finish that sentence with. It didn’t matter, though. I’d already finished it one hundred times in my own head. Pathetic? Sad? Messed up? All of the above?

“I could stay in the garage.” I suggested. The corner of Alex’s mouth turned up and stretched into a smile as he remembered the same conversation he’d referred to earlier. It had completely gone over my head on the phone, but being back here again had jogged my memory. I was surprised he’d remembered something so insignificant as having a kid he hated crash at his house once.

“Nah. You’re not some hobo.” He said, still quoting our conversation from over three years ago. “Well, technically, now…”

“Oh fuck you!” I laughed, throwing a pillow at him. His laughter joined itself to mine and I realized I’d missed this intensely; I’d missed having a friend, even if it was just for one night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: language, drug use, underage drinking... Basically, nothing, but I'll put it here anyways. 
> 
> Comments and suggestions appreciated, as always.


	4. Old Patterns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin goes on a date with Jess, runs into an old friend, and tells his mom about working for his dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> longest chapter yet! And just on time. You're welcome.
> 
>  
> 
> Warnings at bottom.

“Hey. You look amazing.” I said. Jessica flushed and did an awkward half-curtsy, her eyes shining in that mischievous way I had missed so much.

“Not too shabby, yourself.” She said, nodding appraisingly at my outfit. Thank god for the grunge trend. I really didn’t know where I’d be without it. I was born at the perfect time, when ripped jeans, worn out shirts, and old flannels were actually cool. I’d never appreciated it quite as much as I did in that moment.

“Thanks.” I said. We both stood awkwardly beside our chairs at one of the new plaza cafes. I figured Monet’s would be a little too reminiscent of old times for our first time out together in over three years. I pulled her chair out for her and she laughed, sultry and real. This wasn’t a place that was nearly fancy enough to pull that kind of shit, but it seemed like a nice gesture.

“And they say chivalry is dead.” Jess japed. I faked a small bow and took my seat.

“You ever been here before?” I asked, looking over the little drink card on the table.

“No.” Said Jess, “It’s literally brand new. It wasn’t even here last summer.”

“So much new stuff, huh?” I said. Jesus. I needed some new conversation-starting material.

“Yeah. We’re a ‘commuter town’ now. That’s where all the people came from.”

“Commuters.” I echoed. “Keeps me in a job at least.” I shrugged. I’d actually just worked this morning, building mini mansions in some fancy new subdivision.

“Oh yeah! I almost forgot. How’s the construction going?” Jess asked.

“Pretty good.” I said. Small talk. Great. I asked her about school. She said it was going well. A panicked feeling of needing to say something interesting settled in my gut. I couldn’t think of anything, though, so the smalltalk continued.

“What kind of law do you want to do?” I said. I caught her microscopically cringe. What did I say? Did you not ‘do’ law?

“Basically, I want to put assholes like Bryce in jail.” She said, shrugging. A well of unease grew in my chest.

“Uh. That’s good.” I said.

“He’s already out.” She said, disgust written all over her face. “Can you believe that? He got one year and then went to college like nothing ever happened. It’s appalling.” I nodded. It was easy to tell Jess had been around intellectuals for the past few years; she used words like ‘appalling’ now.

“‘S’what happens when you’re white and have rich-ass parents.” I said. I’d read a case like that not too long ago. I had a feeling his name was eerily similar to Bryce’s. Was is Bryan? Brock? Bruce? I didn’t remember.

“Exactly! I want to do something about that.” She said. I could hear the excitement in her voice and felt excitement swell in me, too. Her passion was infectious.

“That’s amazing, Jess. Seriously.” I said.

“What about you? What do you want to do?” Jess asked. She waggled her eyebrows. “What does Justin Foley want to change in the world?” Well, shit. I bit my lip and smiled nervously.

“Uh… Ah. I don’t - I haven’t really thought about it.” I said. Jessica nodded, surveying me closely, like she thought I was lying. “Um. I - uh…” What? Sold drugs for a while? Lived in my car hopping from town to town, trying to convince myself the next one would be better? Accomplished absolutely nothing?

“It’s okay if you don’t know.” Jess said. “You still have plenty of time.” Her smile seemed a little more forced than it had before and I wondered what I’d said, where it had gone wrong.

“I’m mostly just focused on getting a place of my own right now.” I said. _Get my shit together._ Jess nodded, but I could feel the growing disappointment emanating from her. I wished I could tell her everything that had happened, promise her that I _would_ make something of myself eventually. She just had to give me some time.

“Oh. Yeah. That’ll be nice.” She said, her attention wavering.

I got up clumsily and ordered us drinks, bringing back a hot chocolate for her and coffee for myself. She thanked me and dipped into the whipped cream topping right away. My quickly thinning wallet was angry at me, but it was worth it.

“Is that new?” Jess asked, licking whipped cream off her tiny spoon and gesturing with it towards my arm. I followed her gaze to my forearm, where the bottom portion of one of my tattoos was peeking out from under my sleeve.

“Yeah!” I said, rolling the sleeve of my plaid shirt up past my elbow. I displayed my arm on the table in front of her and made a grandiose gesture. “My tattoo artist is the shit!”

Jess leaned over and looked over the tattoo. She nodded a few times.

“It’s cool. Is that, like, a skull and weeds?” She asked, holding back a small laugh.

“No! It’s…” I turned my arm at a different angle. “Okay, I can see how you would think that, but it’s actually an old scuba diving helmet and that’s just seaweed and shit.” I pointed to different parts on my arm, flipping it over at awkward angles so Jess could get a better view.

“Is that a snake?” She asked, running her finger over a spot near my elbow. My skin tingled where our skin was touching.

“Sea snake.” I corrected, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Sea snake.” She echoed, her finger never leaving my arm. Her dark eyes were mesmerizing and I imagined myself sinking into them like in the old days. I felt my fingers wrap themselves lightly around her arm. I wished I could just lose myself in her skin and her eyes and her lips and everything would be like it was before…

Jessica cleared her throat and pulled her arm back slowly, offering a small, tight smile as an apology.

“You, uh, seeing anyone?” I asked, rubbing the bottom of my jaw in an attempt to seem nonchalant. My heart was racing and my skin buzzed where her fingers had been.

“No. You?” My heart skipped a beat.

“Nah.” I shook my head. “Not since junior year, actually.” _Not since you._ I stirred my coffee absently, waiting for her response.

“Wow. I’m impressed.” She said, though she didn’t exactly sound like it. “Surprised, but impressed.” I shrugged.

“Nothing else compares to the real deal.” I said, meeting her eyes. She shifted in her seat.

“I dated a bit through first year. Nothing serious, though.” Jessica said, finishing off the whipped cream and starting on the actual drink.

“Anyone I should worry about?” I asked, though I immediately regretted it as I watched her small smile falter. Shit.

“No.” She said. I thought of asking if she’d tried to rekindle things with Standall while I was gone, but I sensed an argument at the end of that conversation and wanted nothing to do with that. I didn’t want to seem too desperate.

“So… have you kept in contact with people? Like, from high school?” I asked, trying to choose the safest conversation topic.

“Oh, yeah! Zach, Sheri, Montgomery, Marcus and I went on a road trip last summer while we were on break. I Skype with them every few weeks or so.” Jess said. I felt my face fall and wasn’t even sure she noticed.

“Good for you.” I said.

“Oh. Shit, Justin. I’m sorry. We didn’t really think -” She started, a dark flush creeping up her flawless cheeks.

“I get it. College kids only.” I said, sipping my coffee. Jessica’s jaw worked.

“None of us really knew where you went…” She said softly. I shrugged, trying to swallow down the anger that was threatening to claw its way out of me.

“If you asked, I would’ve told you.” I said. I fought to keep my voice level.

“I’m sorry. We just sort of worked it out last minute and didn’t think to ask anyone else.” She continued. The more she explained, the more it hurt.

“At least you didn’t ask Bryce before me.” I shrugged. Jess chuckled nervously and turned her mug between her hands.

“Oh god. Never.” She said, sending a wry smile my way. “Or Courtney.”

“Or Clay Jensen.” I supplied. Jessica laughed.

“Full reunion.” She said bitterly. “That would’ve been a good time.” I knew she meant the twelve of us that were on the tapes, just by the way she grew suddenly sadder. I sighed. It always came back to those fucking tapes and Hannah Baker. Always. Sometimes I wished I’d just thrown them out as soon as I got them.

We both sat there for a little while, no doubt thinking about junior year and all the shit that went down. I bet we’d still be thinking about it when we were 80 years old, wondering what could’ve been. I would most likely have graduated and would be playing basketball at some jock college, visiting Jessica on weekends and holidays. But I’d lost it all because of some stupid picture and an even stupider party.

“If you don’t have a place of your own, are you living with your mom, then?” Jess asked, out of nowhere. I let out a sigh, thankful that the conversation steered away from Hannah Baker’s tapes.

“Uh, yeah.” I said. After the night at Alex’s, I’d been crashing on the couch at my mom’s new place. “She moved, though.”

“Really?” Asked Jess.

“Yeah.” I scoffed. “And _eloped_.”

“With Seth?” Jessica raised her eyebrows in disbelief.

“No. God, no.” I said, “to some new guy with a kid. And a beard. Who lives in a fucking trailer.” I hit my spoon against the bottom of the mug to channel my frustration. “His name’s Carl.” I didn’t even try to keep the distaste out of my voice.

“Oh. That sucks.” Jess said. She put a tentative hand on mine and I smiled thinly.

“Yeah.” I agreed. Again, I was reminded of junior year. I was also forcibly reminded of mine and Alex’s conversation a few days ago. _All you do is think about how rough you have it and never take any goddamn responsibility._ I knew I should let this go, suck it up, and be happy that my mom got her life back on track, but then why couldn’t I? And why was I still so fucking angry?

“I got your text the other day, but I was at work.” Jessica said. “I’m really sorry. Was that what you wanted to talk about? Your mom?”

“Yeah.” I said. “It’s okay, though. I went to Standall’s.” I waited for the surprise to hit her and, sure enough, it did.

“Oh. Alex?” She frowned. “I didn’t know you two were friends.”

“We’re not, really.” I corrected. “I’m pretty sure he still hates me.” It wouldn’t set him apart from anyone else I knew from this fucking town. Except for maybe Jess. But, even then, I wasn’t so sure she’d forgiven me. I would make it my goal to work on that.

What did Justin Foley want to change in the world? I wanted to make things right with Jessica. Whatever it took.

 

***

 

There’s a common misconception about what it’s like to be lonely. People seem to think the only time it really matters is when you’re going through some hard shit and there’s no one to help you through it. I’d be the last person to say that that sort of loneliness doesn’t suck, trust me. But what everyone seems to miss is that loneliness actually hurts the most in the good times. When you get a new job or sink an awesome trick shot, all you want is to share that moment with someone. You want someone you can look over at and say ‘did you see that shit?’ and watch the smile grow on their face. The most painful sort of loneliness is when the excitement is bubbling out of you and there’s no one to share it with because, frankly, no one gives a shit.

I had spent most of my life oblivious to what it was like to be alone. I’d always had someone around. All I had to do was smile big and crack a few jokes, and instantly I had friends. I could call people up for a ride, a game of basketball, or just to get high. It didn’t even matter to me that they were superficial friendships. I didn’t want more than that.

I missed those days. I missed being the Justin Foley that people liked and admired; people used to cheer my name at basketball games, invite me to parties, and ask me to hang out at their houses. I hadn’t really appreciated it then. Now, I practically jumped out of my skin in excitement when someone returned a text.

I opened my Instagram and scrolled through my account. I hadn’t updated much in the past few years. There hadn’t been much to post. I’d taken a few pictures with some of my dad’s friends and their cars, just because. One of the photos, one of myself driving some other guy’s souped-up truck, had earned a comment from Montgomery. It read: “finally I don’t need to drive your lazy ass around anymore” with a few emojis. I smiled as I scrolled over it. I’d posted a few photos of new tattoos and glassware, but none of my old friends had said anything about those.

Before I knew it, I’d scrolled so far down into my own Instagram that I was back in my posts from junior year. My breath caught when I reached one of Jessica and I. It was in my old apartment, and depicted Jessica and I sticking out our tongues, which were bright blue from a drink of some kind. She was laughing into the camera, her nose crinkled in that cute Jessica Davis way. I was looking at her, just as mesmerized then as I was when I’d last seen her. My heart felt heavy as I found more and more photos of the two of us. Part of me knew we would never get back to that level, not after the whole Hannah Baker thing.

The photos with my old friend group hurt almost as much, but not quite. I felt hatred course through my body whenever I saw a picture with Bryce, but there was also a spike of jealousy in there as well. I didn’t know whether the jealousy was directed at Zach, Bryce, Montgomery, Marcus, or the four-years outdated version of myself. Barring Bryce, I would probably kill to be any one of them right now.

I sent Jess the old picture of us without a comment, letting her make what she wanted out of it. I debated mass texting the old crew a group photo taken in Montgomery’s car, but decided against it. They’d all moved on and found new friends. It would seem pretty fucking pathetic.

I put my phone back in my pocket and continued making my way through the aisles at Walplex, sort of embarrassed to have been staring at my phone in a supermarket for the better part of forty-five minutes. I was still in my work clothes since I’d come here directly from the construction site. I was rocking an oversized plaid jacket I’d gotten from a thrift store somewhere, old jeans from at least four years ago, a Liberty basketball T-shirt, and work boots that were currently leaving dirt tracks on the polished floor. I’d gotten my first paycheck today, so this was my first stop. My second would be my old dealer. Hopefully he hadn’t gone anywhere.

The contents of my shopping cart consisted of beer and canned pasta. I threw in a few cans of SPAM just because they were on sale. I took a running start and jumped on the cart, riding it the rest of the way down the aisle. I skidded to a stop at the end. Pop-Tarts. Those were a necessity.

“No, Mom, I didn’t party the whole time!” I heard a familiar voice saying from somewhere in the aisle next to me. _No fucking way_. “College is just harder, that’s why my grades are lower.”

I turned and felt a smile grow on my face. I brought my cart around to the other side.

“Zach Dempsey?” I all-but-shouted. His eyes widened and he eventually smiled, too. His bitch mom didn’t, though. I wasn’t sure she recognized me, but that didn’t really matter because she’d always hated me, so the glare wouldn’t change.

“Justin?” He asked. “I had no idea you were back!”

“Well, I am, motherfucker!” I said, closing the distance between us and clapping him on the back. I caught his mother’s disapproving look. “Oh. Sorry, Mrs. Dempsey.” She sent a tight smile my way, though her eyes were still burning holes into me.

“Hey, mom, can you grab steak or something? I’ll catch up.” Zach said. His mom gave me one last glare before taking her shopping cart and continuing down the aisle.

“How are you, man?” I asked, sizing him up. He’d grown a little, though he’d already been super tall in high school. He looked good, I had to admit.

“Pretty good. How about you?” Zach said. His once-over of me was more like a judgy thrice-over.

“I just got off work.” I said, gesturing to the construction garb. Zach nodded.

“Construction, right? That’s a good summer gig.” Zach said. I didn’t miss the word ‘summer’ in there and chose to let it slide.

“Can’t complain.” I shrugged. “Unless it’s raining, then it fucking sucks!” I said. Zach laughed fakely, checking over his shoulder to see if anyone was nearby. I thought of asking him if he had somewhere to be, but I knew he’d just take the opportunity and make up some bullshit. I knew the look. Zach glanced into my shopping cart.

“Nice.” He lied, gesturing at the mish-mash of sale items which littered my cart. “How are you going to buy the beer, though?”

“I have a fake now.” I said. Zach nodded, unsurprised.

“Nice.” He said again. He shifted uncomfortably, pretending to be interested in the prices of cheese slices.

“Someone told me you were in marine biology or something. How is that?” I asked, needing to say something to break the awkward silence. Zach shrugged.

“Pretty good. A lot of work.” He said.

“You playing basketball?” I asked. Zach nodded a few times.

“Yeah. Not Division I, but it’s still nice to play. How about you?” Zach asked, his eyes lingering on my Liberty basketball t-shirt. I fought the urge to do up my jacket.

“Uh… not on a college team or anything.” I said. _Don’t ask. Please don’t ask._

“Oh, which school are you at again?” He asked. Fuck. I swallowed nervously. It was always the same questions. I forced a laugh out of my throat.

“I’m not in college, man! No way.” I said, trying to sound like I didn’t care. If this Zach Dempsey was the same guy that had searched through college basketball teams with me to see which ones needed the lowest averages to play, he would go along with it.

“I get it, man. It’s so much work.” Zach agreed. “I want to go to grad school, and the amount of hours I already need to study to get a good GPA is crazy! Third year is gonna be _insane_ , man!” I smiled like those words meant something to me. Grad school and GPAs… that was what everyone was talking about now. Everyone but me.

“Yeah. Fuck that.” I said, though inside I felt bitter disappointment. I didn’t have anything in common with these people anymore, these people I’d grown up with. Out of everyone I knew from Liberty, Alex was the only one who could slightly relate.

“And you wouldn’t believe how broke I am!” Zach laughed. “Like, my parents are paying for a lot of my tuition, but I’m in so much debt, bro, you wouldn’t believe!” I forced myself to nod. I looked down into my shopping cart full or cheap food and even cheaper alcohol. Yeah, I think I could understand being broke.

“You must be making _bank_ doing construction!” Zach said, slapping my shoulder.

“Uh. Sure. Yeah.” I said, still looking at my cans of SPAM and Campbell’s soup.

“Man, I’m so jealous!” Zach said. I felt myself cringe. “Sometimes I wish I hadn’t gone to college. I would’ve saved so much money and stress. You must be living it up!” I nodded. We weren’t nearly close enough for me to tell him what the past few years had truly been like. I hardly even knew this guy anymore.

“Definitely, bro.” I said. “I’m actually heading to my dealer’s right now.” Zach’s expression flickered and I almost caught parent-like disapproval on his features. It went away as soon as it had appeared.

“Nice.” Zach said. It was like we were speaking two different languages and each trying to translate what we were saying so the other could understand. He tried to pretend he was still interested in the stuff we’d liked in high school, while I tried to pretend I wasn’t miles behind him in life experience and maturity. Trying to keep track of the levels of fakeness hurt my head.

“Ah. I won’t take up more of your time, buddy.” I said. “Your mom might start to hate me more than she already does.” I offered a half-smile that Zach returned in kind.

“Take care of yourself, Justin.” Zach said, trying to mask his genuine concern with a frat-boy smile.

“You too.” I said. “If you ever decide the whole college thing isn’t working out, hit me up.” The look on Zach’s face told me very clearly that he would do no such thing, but it seemed like something that the Justin I’d been pretending to be would say.

Zach’s mom really shouldn’t hate me. I just did her a favour. If Zach had ever thought of dropping out of college, I could tell you for a fact that he sure as hell wasn’t thinking about it anymore. I had essentially become a fable that parents could use to scare their kids into staying in school: “Better study hard on that test, Billy, or you’ll end up like Justin Foley!”. You’re welcome, parents of America.

 

***

 

I came home angry. I’d stopped at my dealer’s and picked some stuff up, and then I’d driven home without music. I only did that when I was too far into my own head to realize that the drive was weirdly quiet.

As soon as I pushed open the door, I knew something had changed. This strange trailer suddenly felt more familiar to me. It was dark and quiet as a graveyard save for the low sounds and ever-changing glow of the TV coming from the living room. It was easy to imagine that no one was home, except I knew better. I also could feel the absence of Carl and Derek. After living on my own for a while, I found it easy to detect the presence of other people. It was only my mother and myself.

“Hey, mom.” I greeted softly, padding into the living room. The low, cautious voice I used was both alien and eerily familiar. It was the voice I’d always used when I thought my mom would be drunk or her boyfriend would be in a bad mood. It was guarded, ready to run if things went south.

“Justy.” Mom greeted in return. She smiled lazily at me from the couch, her messy dark hair falling over her face. I bit my lip. She was drunk. Very fucking drunk. I’d almost gotten used to the lack of excessive drinking on her part in the last few days. She only called me ‘Justy’ when she was off her ass.

“Where’s Carl and Derek?” I said, taking a seat on an unoccupied corner of the couch. My mom had spread herself out across the stained cloth cushions and her bare feet were against my back.

“Carl’s family.” She said, her words slurred together.

“What?”

“They’re at Carl’s family. With them.” She said, though that didn’t make much more sense to me. I nodded anyway. I assumed that meant that both Carl and Derek were visiting Carl’s parents, wherever that might be. Something told me Carl wouldn’t like my mom like this, he didn’t seem like the type. Her other boyfriends would have gladly lazed around drunk or high and sold drugs out of our apartment, but Carl seemed different.

“Justy.” She said again, like a quiet prayer. I felt all the feeling leave my body and I sank into the couch as old memories came flooding back.

It was always like this. Every time things started to go well, when Mom stopped drinking for a while or got rid of a particularly nasty boyfriend, I would imagine an alternate reality. I would imagine her cleaning up her act for good, taking care of me for a change, and we’d do things together again, be inseparable like we were on pictures of me as a toddler. Even if it was only for a second, a whole lifetime would flash before my eyes. In this other life, it would only be the two of us; She would cheer for me at all my basketball games, I would drive her to work in some old piece of shit car and we would smile at each other over our cheap dinners, a secret understanding that we were each other’s whole world. It was nothing special or particularly impressive. I didn’t dream of living in a mansion like Bryce or driving a new Jeep like Montgomery, but what I wanted was infinitely more valuable.

The worst part was that sometimes the scenarios I played over and over in my head would actually happen. Mom would save money and bring me to an amusement park or a local fair. Sometimes she wouldn’t drink for a week and come to a basketball game of mine, actually remember to shop for groceries, or watch a movie I wanted to see. Something good would happen in her life, and for the first weeks or months she would excitedly make plans to improve every part of her existence. My young mind would think _finally_. Finally, things are going to be like this all the time. But it never lasted. Sooner or later, Laryssa Foley fell back into her old patterns and became the same apathetic drunk as before.

“I’m hungry. Could you please…” She looked at me expectantly, her hand reaching out towards mine. Mom offered a small smile. I didn’t reciprocate it.

“Get something yourself.” I snapped.

“ _Justin._ ” Mom sighed. Her thumb stroked the back of my hand. “My head is hurting. I have a migraine, I think. It’ll only take a minute.” She squeezed my hand in hers and all the fight drained out of my body.

“Fine.” I said.

 

The only food I could find was the now-stale bread from over a week ago, a nearly-empty jar of mayo, ketchup, and the stuff I just bought at Walplex. I used the last pieces of bread and some of the cheese slices I’d gotten and made my mom a grilled cheese. No matter how angry I was or how many times I promised myself I would put my foot down and say something, I always seemed to end up in the same place, whether it be making a grilled cheese on the stovetop or warming up a pre-packaged microwave meal.

I passed her the plate and a beer, which she started on immediately. I leaned back against the pillows on the couch and let them envelop me for a good few seconds, sucking out my anger and stress.

“I saw Zach today.” I said, surprising myself. Mom didn’t respond, just continued on the grilled cheese I’d made her.

“I lied to him. I don’t know why.” I picked at a loose string in the couch’s fabric, twirling it around my finger until it turned blue. “Hm. Maybe ‘cause I feel like a fucking loser ‘cause I never graduated.” I pulled on the string so hard it snapped. Mom still didn’t say a thing. She sipped at her beer and focused her limited attention on the infomercial on TV.

“Mom?” I asked, trying to get her attention by waving my hand in her peripherals. “Should I take night school or something? I could get a GED.”

She turned her head towards me only slightly and shrugged.

“Whatever you want.” She said.

“I don’t know, though. I don’t know what to do.” I said. I waited for a wise piece of advice or basically anything, but received only deafening silence. Not even a shrug. I swore and settled back into the cushions, watching Dr. Ho explain some sort of electrocution contraption on the infomercial channel. _I could make up a bullshit excuse to be on disability like you_ , I almost said.

“My dad has his GED.” I said instead. If anything would get a reaction, it was bringing up my father. Sure enough, Mom scoffed.

“Go live with that fucker, then.” She said.

“I did.” I told her, letting the air slowly out of my cheeks.

“He’s the biggest mistake I ever made. Never brought anything good in my life.” Mom said, more to herself than to me. She took another sip of beer, her mouth drawn into a thin line.

“Except me?” I near-whispered. She only took another swig from the can.

“How the fuck did you find him?” She asked. I shrugged.

“The internet.” I said. It hadn’t been nearly as difficult as I’d imagined. I just looked up his name, found the matches in California, eliminated those who were too rich to be a possibility, and made a few calls. All in all, it had been a little anticlimactic and hadn’t taken more than a day.

“Hm.” Mom hummed, her eyes still fixed on the TV.

“He wasn’t super happy to see me or anything. He was mad, actually.” I said. I still vividly remembered the day I’d shown up at his apartment with a ridiculous smile I couldn’t hide and my old duffel slung over my shoulder. He asked me who the fuck I was and why the fuck I was there before trying to get rid of me, saying there was no way he was paying more child support and that I should go beg to the government instead.

“He called me, though, said he wanted to get to know me.” I said.

“He’s a fucking selfish liar.” Mom said. I had to agree on that front.

“Yeah, I figured that out.” I concurred. “He wanted me to do some drug deal or something for him, that’s why he told me I could stay.” I didn’t know why I was suddenly explaining everything to her, but I had to tell someone and my mom seemed like the only one that would understand.

“And you did it.” She stated. She didn’t sound disappointed, or angry, or anything that I imagined a normal parent would have. Mom could have been reporting on the weather and her voice would’ve sounded exactly the same.

“Yeah.” I agreed. “A lot of them.” I could still smell the stale beer, leather, and cigarettes of the biker bar he’d bring me to. When I closed my eyes, I could picture the crest on the back of his black jacket. There had been a time when I aspired to have one of those jackets myself, when I wanted to be like that asshole.

“He get tired of you?” Mom asked, finishing off her beer. I nodded. Her bluntness stung like a slap and somehow reminded me of Standall.

“Guess so.” I said. My mom laughed bitterly and I felt something akin to a wave of affection towards her. We’d both been hurt by the same person, after all.

“One of the rival gangs or whatever fucked with one of the deals, showed up with a bunch of guys and started shooting. I guess Dad ripped them off or stole their business, something like that.” I said, my voice shaking as I recalled the bullets whipping past me, my heart pounding in my chest, and the spray of blood as someone near me was hit. “And he drove away without me.”

“That’s Jordan for you.” Mom scoffed, shaking her head. I couldn’t help but stare at her. I’d just told her I’d almost been shot… Had she heard that part?

“I could’ve been killed.” I said. “And he just fucking… left.” My chin quivered and I clenched my jaw. I waited for my mom to say something, but she was focused on the television again. I grabbed the remote and flicked the TV off.

“Justin.” She warned. “Turn the TV back on.”

“I want you to fucking listen to me.” I said. Mom worked her jaw.

“Jordan leaves. S’what he does.” Mom said, waving her hand dismissively, like I should have known that a long time ago. ‘Jordan leaves’ didn’t do nearly enough to remedy the fact that I had seen someone’s brains splatter onto the pavement right in front of me and when I called to my father for help, he ignored me and sped away on his Harley.

“Now turn the fucking TV back on.” Mom ordered. I shook my head.

“Why didn’t you ever call?” I asked.

“This again?”

“Yeah, this again! I could’ve been dead, for god’s sake!” I said, my voice rising in the silent darkness of the living room.

“You weren’t.”

“So? I could’a been.” I said with a shrug.

“You’re fine, though.” Mom sighed, rolling her eyes. I scoffed.

“Fine?” I echoed. “I’m alive, sure, but I’m not fucking _fine_.” I was a highschool dropout with no future, no friends, and a family that didn’t seem to give a shit about me. That certainly wasn’t my definition of ‘fine’.

“Seem fine.” Mom shrugged.

“No thanks to you.” I snapped. Her mouth twisted into a lazy, cruel smile. Her glassy eyes fixed themselves on me.

“I raised you.” She said.

“I practically raised myself!” I argued. “You just got drunk, fucked random guys, and told me to ‘figure it out’.”

“You turned out okay.” Mom said.

“Except I’m not fucking okay!” I shouted. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you! I made a girl kill herself and I have to live with that! All my friends are succeeding and moving on and I’m still trying to get my shit together!”

Mom stared at me, her eyes silently begging me to tell her what the fuck that had to do with her. So I did.

“Fuck you.” I said. She laughed.

“What?”

“I’ve been wanting to tell you that for a long time.” I said, my voice cracking. “I begged you, Mom, I begged you to get rid of Seth and you never did. You watched him fucking choke me and didn’t say anything. You made _me_ leave, your own goddamn son!”

“Justin-”

“You walked away, Mom! I begged you to let me stay and you fucking _walked away_!”

“What do you want me to do about that now? It was three years ago.” She said.

“I want you to put me first for once in your fucking life.” I cried. I felt my fragile control over my emotions shatter and I sobbed. I sobbed out my anger at my father, my hurt feelings courtesy of my mother, my never-ending guilt over my part in the death of Hannah Baker, and the knowledge that everyone I knew had moved on and left me behind.

I was barely even aware of the tentative hand rubbing my back and the light tickle of brittle hair against my shoulder. I just cried. I couldn’t find it in myself to stop. I let out all the pent-up self-hatred and frustration as my mom wrapped her arms around me and rested her cheek against my back. Neither of us said a thing, and for once I was thankful for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: language, some violence, etc. Not much. 
> 
> Next chapter Alex shows up again :)


	5. In The Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit hits the fan with the extended Foley household and the police gets called in to deal with it. Justin crashes at Alex's house and has a few too many drinks...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally some Alex/Justin! You're welcome.
> 
> Yes, I know I'm almost a week late, but May is a crazy month. That said, the next update might be a little late as well. I wanted to add another "scene" in this one, but I'll have to push it to the next chapter because I didn't want to wait any longer to update.   
>  
> 
> Warnings at the bottom.

“Mom, I’m home.” I called, dropping my grocery bag on the kitchen table. I moved a precariously perched bong from the edge of the kitchen counter to the sink. I could hear faint arguing coming from the living room. I let all the air slowly out of my lungs and started putting the knockoff Michelina’s dinners I bought in the fridge. 

Carl’s voice was getting louder and more agitated and I felt my eyes roll in my head. Fuck Carl. Ever since he got back from his parents’ place, he hadn’t shut up about how things had deteriorated while he was gone. Sure, Mom had started drinking heavily and smoking weed again, but Carl was crazy if he thought she’d changed her habits long-term.

“I want him gone, Laryssa.” I heard Carl say as he left the living room. I frowned and took a beer from the fridge, cracking it open and sitting on the kitchen counter in the way I knew Carl hated. 

“Hello to you, too.” I said, toasting with my beer. Carl’s kind grey eyes were harder than usual as he looked over me in distaste. 

“You’re underage.” Was all he said. I laughed around the beer bottle. 

“You never cared before.” I said. Carl worked his bearded jaw and leaned on the counter, the corded muscles in his tattooed arms tensing and relaxing. His eyes were locked on mine and I could feel him analyzing me, gauging my intentions. 

“Whatever you’re trying to do, Justin, it won’t work on me.”

“The fuck you talking about?”

“I know kids like you.” Carl said with a shake of his head, the derision in his eyes cutting into me like a knife. “You’re trying to get rid of me and it’s not gonna happen. So if I were you, I’d stop wasting my time and go to trade school or something.”

“The way I see it, you’re the one trying to get rid of  _ me _ .” I said, anger flaring in my chest. The way he was looking at me, talking to me… It was like I was a cockroach he found in the tub and he was trying to usher it out the window without having to kill it. Actually, he would probably look at that cockroach with less distaste. 

Carl groaned and stretched out his back in the universal  _ fuck, I can’t deal with this right now _ sort of way. 

“Let me explain to you how  _ I  _ see it, okay?” Carl started with an exasperated sigh. I wasn’t a fucking five-year-old and was about to tell him to stop patronizing me, but thought better of it and shut up. “You -- Laryssa’s son who I didn’t even know existed -- show up from god-knows-where acting like you belong here, smoking your bongs and drinking your beer, and-” I felt my eyes roll without my permission. When it had just been Mom and I, we would have a beer and a Hungry-Man meal in front of the TV while we passed a bong between us. I missed that dynamic. 

“I do belong here, actually-” I started.

“No. No, you don’t.” Carl said, shaking his head. “This is my fucking house and you’re an adult who can get a place of your own.”

“I’m still a minor.” I argued. Carl smiled, like he knew I would say that. 

“Is that what your ID says?” Carl said, gesturing to the beer in my hand. I felt all the blood rush to my head. “Can’t have it both ways.”

“Fuck you, man.” I said. Carl laughed. It was a low, hearty laugh that I would’ve liked if it hadn’t been at my expense. Carl shrugged at me. I kept going. “Thanks for being there for my mom while I was gone and shit, but I’m back now. Everything’s better when it’s just the two of us, so if you have a problem with the way we do things, then -”

“Things were  _ better _ ? For Laryssa, or for you?” Snorted Carl. “You might be a legal adult, but you still think with the mind of a selfish little boy.” 

“What the fuck? You don’t even know me, man.” I said, tilting my head at Carl in a way I’d recently noticed agitated him. He exhaled quickly through his nose but kept calm.

“I know you enough. Ever since you’ve been back, Laryssa’s changed and I don’t like it.” Carl said.

“That’s not my fault.” I spat.

“Really? Who’s fault is it, then?”

“Hers!” I shouted. “She’s a fucking adult, too! And she’s always been like this, at least for the 19 goddamn years I knew her. Sorry to break it to you, but you didn’t marry Mother - fucking - Theresa!” Carl shook his head and laughed bitterly. 

“Oh, fuck, kid, you really know how to rile people up.” Carl laughed, stretching his neck out. The muscles in his shoulders rippled under Celtic tattoos. 

“You’ve known my mom for what, like, a year? I’ve known her my whole life. I think I know her just a  _ little _ better than you do.” I said, holding up my fingers a centimeter apart for emphasis. 

“Yeah? And what do all those years and the past month or so have in common, huh? Sorry to use advanced language with you here, Justin, but what’s the common denominator in this equation?” Carl demanded. I hopped off the counter and closed the distance between us, my blood boiling in my cheeks and neck. 

“Fuck. You.” I said, though I didn’t actually remember what a denominator was. Nevertheless, it pissed me off. Carl shook his head at me and waved a dismissive hand in my direction. This did nothing to assuage my anger and I shoved him using both hands. It was like pushing against a refrigerator. Carl laughed.

“Don’t start with me, kid.” Carl said. I pushed him again.

“I want you to leave.” Carl said, easily brushing me aside.

“I’m not fucking going anywhere.” 

“Justin. I want you to get out of my house. I won’t ask again.”

“You’ll have to, motherfucker, ‘cause-” I was cut off by Carl’s effortless jab into my abdomen. I hadn’t even seen his hand move, but all of a sudden the air had left my body and I was gasping painfully while holding onto the counter for support. 

“Get out.” Carl ordered.

“What the fuck?” I shouted, grasping my abdomen. The area Carl had hit was sending stabbing pain through my entire midsection every time I moved. 

“What’s going on here?” I heard my mom ask. Her eyes were red and glassy and she was carrying her glass for a refill. She surveyed the scene in front of her with exasperation. “Seriously?” She asked Carl. 

“Laryssa.” Carl said, holding up his hands in surrender. 

“Can men solve anything without hitting each other?” She asked, more to herself than to anyone else. She took a Coke out of the fridge and some hard liquor from the cupboard. 

“Laryssa, we agreed that Justin needed to find his own place, correct?” Carl said, his voice tense. Mom raised her eyebrows. 

“That was your idea.” She said. 

“Yes, but you agreed that it was a good idea.” Carl countered. I would have taken some joy in his increased agitation if my place to live wasn’t on the line. 

“Do I get to have an opinion?” I asked. The look Carl shot me answered that question right away. 

“Laryssa.” Carl said. “We talked about this.”

“ _ You _ talked about this, Carl.” She shrugged. I felt a flutter of excitement in my chest and wanted to cheer and hug my mom. A smile broke across my face and I straightened up, the pain in my stomach slowly dissipating. 

“I can pay rent.” I suggested. 

“No.” Carl said. 

“Why the fuck not?”

“I don’t want you anywhere near Derek.” Carl said. I almost laughed in his face. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I asked. Carl sighed slowly in a way I’d learned meant he was trying hard to control his anger. “Are you kidding me?” I repeated. 

“You think I’m a bad example or some shit, is that it?” I asked. I looked between Mom and Carl. 

“I do.” Carl said, crossing his arms over his chest. I noticed he had Derek’s name tattooed on his forearm between the crest of his fire station and a row of stars that I assumed stood for something. I knew for a fact that neither of my parents had tattoos with my name on them.

“Mom, you hearing this? You raised me, so take a bow.” I told Mom. She cracked a small smile but didn’t react much. Carl, on the other hand, immediately flared up. 

“You disrespectful little shit.” He accused. “Apologize to your mother.”

“You’re not my fucking dad. Don’t tell me what to do.” I said. He gripped my arm and squeezed. I couldn’t keep in the shout that escaped my throat. “Ow! Fuck!” His hands were the size of a basketball player’s and thick with years of hard work. My bicep muscles twitched and pulsed under his grip. 

“Fuck! Let me go! Fuck!” I shouted, tears stinging my eyes. I kicked at his legs and punched him wherever I could reach, just trying to loosen his death grip on my bicep. “Mom!” I pleaded. 

“Carl.” Mom said. She rolled her eyes in a way that clearly said: grow the fuck up. Carl let me go and I immediately clutched my arm, swearing continuously under my breath. 

“Why do you put up with this shit, Laryssa?” Carl demanded. Mom shrugged and looked disappointedly over at me. 

“Yeah,  _ Laryssa _ .” I said, gesturing towards Carl. “You got another charmer, there.” Carl huffed and laughed at the same time. 

“Ever think that  _ you _ might be the problem here?” Carl asked.  _ You’re no fucking good for anybody _ , I remembered Seth saying. I knew better than to try and hit Carl, so I spat at him instead. That earned me another fist in the gut pretty damn quick. 

“You’re both fucking children.” Laryssa said, sipping her whiskey and coke. 

I leaned on the counter and heaved, trying to force air back into my lungs. Every breath sent a new wave of pain to my head and tears were falling steadily from my eyes. Still, I just wanted to hurt him back. None of this was my fucking fault. He had no right to take his anger out on me. 

“We can help him find an apartment, Laryssa. Just as long as he’s not living here with us and Derek, okay?” Carl was saying softly to my mom.

I swallowed down my rage and took a hold of the bong in the sink. Before I could think it through, I swung it at Carl’s head. The glass was too thick to shatter, but it did crack against his skull. Carl howled and clutched the back of his head. My mom jumped backwards and glared at me. 

“I’m her fucking son! I have every right to live with her!” I shouted. 

“Fucking… fuck.” Carl groaned. I forgot how fast he was for such a big guy and was pinned against the wall before I knew what was happening. 

“Carl.” Mom said. “Let him go.” I knew by the darkness in Carl’s grey eyes that he would do no such thing.

Carl’s hand gripped my throat and tightened slowly.  _ Fuck, he’s gonna kill me _ . I gasped for air and tasted the salt of my own tears in my mouth. I balled and un-balled my fists and tried kicking at his legs, but I was on the verge of losing consciousness so anything I tried to do was far too weak to make a difference. I tried to make eye contact with my mom, but she was waiting for the situation to dissipate and wasn’t even looking in my direction anymore. Carl was suddenly more terrifying than Seth had ever been. Those kind grey eyes had turned cold as stone and he looked like he was capable of anything. I knew he wouldn’t let go.

A knock on the front door saved my life. I dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes as soon as Carl removed his hand and lay on the carpet coughing and retching. 

“Good afternoon, sir.” A familiar voice said at the door. “We received an anonymous call about a domestic dispute. Is this 33 Kirkland Street?” 

“Yeah.” Carl said.  

“May we come in, sir?” Standall asked. Carl shifted at the door and I scrambled to my feet, clearing my throat. I didn’t want Alex coming in here. 

“Do you have a warrant?” Carl asked. 

“No, sir. But a domestic dispute and possible domestic violence call requires us to enter the premises.” Standall was using his full-on cop voice and I would have found it funny if the situation had been different. 

“Fuck.” Carl sighed, exchanging exasperated looks with my mom. “Alright.” He opened the door wide to let Standall and his partner inside.

I ducked into Derek’s room. I couldn’t deal with Alex right now. I leaned against the door and spotted Derek sitting cross-legged on his bed, the phone next to him. He stared at me like I was an alien that had just dropped out of space. 

“Hey.” I rasped. Derek just kept staring. “Thanks.” I gestured to the phone. Derek looked at it like he’d never seen it before, but I knew he’d made that 9-1-1 call. I sank onto his bed and leaned back against his pillows. He edged away from me but didn’t push me off. 

“What’s happening?” Derek asked. 

“Cops.” I said, massaging my throat so my voice didn’t sound quite as awful. Derek nodded. “They’ll probably come in here in a minute.”

“Why?”

“Questions and shit.” 

“Oh. Okay.” Derek said. He picked at my sweatshirt. “There’s a hole in your shirt.” 

“Yeah, I know.” I said. 

Derek fiddled with the loose string on my sweatshirt, trying to rip it off but only managing to make things worse. At any other time, I might have cared enough to tell him to stop. 

Alex was the one who opened the door. He stopped dead and stared open-mouthed. 

“Justin?” He asked. 

“Hey.” I said. Derek looked over at me, panic in his eyes. I put my hand on his arm and hoped it was a reassuring gesture. I remembered the first time I called the police on one of my mom’s boyfriends; I thought I was going to get killed or taken to a group home. I wasn’t sure which one would’ve been worse. I wanted to tell Derek that none of that would happen to him and he would be okay, but the words stuck in my throat.

“You know the cops?” Derek whispered at me. 

“Standall’s nice. S’okay.” I said. I would’ve told Derek I went to highschool with Alex, but my throat still hurt like a bitch. I got off the bed and held Derek’s outstretched hand, leading him to the living room. 

“Told you my mom moved.” I told Standall as we passed him on the way to the living room. I was going for lighthearted, but my messed-up voice made it sound a million miles from playful. Standall tried to crack a smile, but it was shaky and uncertain. I felt unease stir in my stomach. His eyes held the familiar look of distrust and disgust that people often wore when they thought I was white trash. Shame and anger bubbled in my stomach but I made myself give Derek a reassuring smile as we sat down on the ratty sofa.

Derek was still holding my hand tightly, his eyes trained on the fairly new tattoo on the back of my wrist and hand. I’d gotten it with my dad and had fought the urge to get it removed more than once; Watching the way Derek looked at it in fascination and traced it with a small finger to soothe himself convinced me that I would do no such thing. 

 

***

 

Standall’s squad car smelled like cheap air fresheners and stale cigarettes. I knew he didn’t smoke, so I figured his partner did. 

“Why the hell were you lying back there?” Alex asked. I hadn’t heard him so angry since junior year. I exhaled slowly. “Justin? I want a fucking answer.”

“Wasn’t lying.” I said. 

“So you tried to hang yourself, your stepdad fell and hit his head in the shower, and Derek dialed 9-1-1 by accident? That was all the truth?” Standall demanded. I cleared my throat.

“Damn straight.” I said. Standall huffed and shook his head. He swore repeatedly under his breath. His partner muttered something about trailer trash. 

“You know I can hear you, right?” I said. Standall’s partner met my eyes in the rearview mirror and smirked but ignored me. That guy was a dick. 

“Can you give me  _ one _ honest answer?” Alex asked. I worked my jaw and shrugged.

“Depends.” 

“Derek. Is he in any danger staying at home?” He turned to look at me through the bars in the squad car. I hated those damn bars. They made me feel like a criminal. 

“No.” I said. Carl might have been strong as fuck, but he would never use that strength to hurt his beloved son. 

“If you’re lying, I swear to God-”

“You think I would lie about that?” I retorted. I saw Standall mulling it over in his head, no doubt remembering that time I’d shown up at his place when I was scared to go home. He sighed angrily but didn’t press it. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, why does your stepdad want you to leave so badly?” Standall asked. I smirked. 

“Uhh. He found out I was hiding a felony quantity of meth in his trailer. Oh yeah, and I have a mad heroin addiction.” I said. Alex’s partner’s head snapped around so quickly I was half-scared his neck would break. A laugh ripped its way out of my throat. 

“He’s kidding.” Standall said. 

“Oh nice. We got a fucking joker, here.” Alex’s partner said. I didn’t know if he was trying to use a procedural-worthy cliché cop voice, but that was what it sounded like to me. It made me dislike that fucker even more than I already did. 

“Just drop me off at a motel someplace.” I told Alex, leaning my head on the bars. Standall’s partner scoffed. 

“You’re not going anywhere except the station-”

“Jake, relax. He hasn’t done anything.” Standall said. The asshat named Jake made an exasperated noise but didn’t protest. 

“You got money?” Alex asked me. 

“Yeah.” I said, not bothering to hide my slight annoyance. I had been planning on going to my dealer’s today so I still had at least fifty bucks on me. It wouldn’t last me long, but it would do. Alex met my eyes in the rearview, no doubt trying to figure out if I was lying. I wanted to scream at him, tell him to fuck off. I could handle myself. 

 

Standall never dropped me off at a motel. Once Jake had gone home, Alex drove to his house as if he’d completely forgotten I existed. 

“This doesn’t look like a motel to me.” I said. Standall shrugged. 

“Oops.” He said. “I don’t really want to waste more gas, so either stay here or walk to a motel. Up to you.” I weighed the pros and cons in my head for awhile, wondering whether to prioritize my pride or my money. I decided on the money. 

“Whatever.” I agreed. “You got booze?” Standall laughed uncomfortably but nodded. 

 

Alex set up his downstairs apartment the same way as when I’d last been here. I’d tried to help but ended up making things worse, so I took that as my cue and let Standall take over. I just watched from the couch, chugging beer every time I replayed the earlier disaster in my mind or felt a twinge in my abdomen where Carl had hit me. The alcohol was starting to affect me; I could feel my brain and body moving at two different speeds. 

“You good?” Alex asked. He sat next to me on the couch and I shrugged at him. 

“Sure.” I said. My drunk self had a list of private things he wanted to spill to Alex, but I kept that part of me in check and decided to stay silent. 

“Those bruises are gonna be really bad if you don’t get ice on your neck.” 

“Oh.” I said. I didn’t really give a fuck about the bruises, in all honesty. I just wanted to erase that shit-show from my memory and start today over again. Alex rolled his eyes and fetched me an icepack. I held it against my neck for a little while, but my stomach was bothering me much more. 

“Just so you know, hanging yourself doesn’t leave finger marks.” Standall told me. I was reminded of Carl’s icy anger and his calloused fingers squeezing without hesitation. I chugged my beer. 

“Thanks, detective.” I said. Alex scoffed. 

“Jesus Christ. Do you think about what comes out of your mouth, or are you just an asshole on purpose?” 

“Says you.” 

“Okay. Touché.” Alex said. “But I just call things like I see them.” 

“Doesn’t mean you’re not an asshole.” I said. My tongue tripped over itself a little and I over-enunciated to compensate. “Just a different flavour.” 

“You should slow down on the beers, man.” Alex said, reaching for my arm. 

“No, dude. This is nothing.” I laughed. Something akin to pity flashed in Alex’s eyes and I took another swig. 

“Justin Foley drinking game, here we go!” I said, rummaging through some of Alex’s drawers before finding some hard liquor. I poured some of the cheap vodka into the neck of my beer bottle and swirled it around a little. No point in dirtying another glass for nothing. 

“Every time someone feels bad for you, drink!” I said mockingly, taking a swig. 

“Justin, what are you-”

“Every time someone asks you what you’re doing with your life, drink!” I chugged some more beer as Alex watched in mild horror and confusion. “Every time someone is fake-nice but really hates your guts, drink, motherfucker, drink!” 

Standall wasn’t touching his beer. It was still unopened on the table. 

“Why you not drinking, man?” I asked. “M’trying to play a game, here.”

“Uhhh -” Alex started, a stupid-ass expression on his face. That made me laugh harder. 

“Every time your mom ignores you or her asshole boyfriend fucks with you, drink! How about… whenever one of your old friends is more successful than you? DRINK!” I took a long swig and finished the beer. I threw it next to the others and started on the liquor instead. “When you smoke weed because you just want to spend a few less hours hating yourself, drink!”

“Drink when… someone doesn’t want you around! How about that one?” I let the straight vodka burn my throat. “Aaaand, every time someone fucks up your life by taking little things too seriously and fucking killing themselves over it, drink.” I held my bottle up to Alex as a toast. He shook his head slowly, but I downed the rest of it anyway. 

“Fuck.” I said, sliding onto the floor against the wall. I leaned my head back and let the world sway for a second. 

I could feel Alex staring at me so I closed my eyes. When I opened them, I realized he’d taken the bottle from my hand and had sat down next to me. 

“You’re a fucking mess, Foley.” Alex said tenderly. I smiled, or at least I tried to smile. I felt it falter like the first crack on a frozen pond, and just like that ice would, it collapsed. I shook my head slowly.  _ I can’t do this shit anymore _ , I wanted to say, but no words came out. Instead I let out a harsh bark of laughter and winced at the immediate pain in my abdomen. 

“Let me see.” Alex said, tugging on the bottom of my shirt. 

“Trying to take advantage of me?” I slurred. Standall shook his head in a mix of annoyance and amusement. I’d resolved not to show the bruise on my stomach to anyone, but my drunk self didn’t give a shit. I ripped my shirt off in one quick motion so the pain wasn’t as prolonged. Alex didn’t theatrically gasp as I’d expected; He just angrily set his jaw. 

“Jesus. Your stepdad’s a dick.” 

“S’nothing. I’ve had worse.” I said, trying to wave him off. I reached for my shirt again, feeling weirdly exposed. Standall put a hand on my arm, blocking the shirt from reach. His eyes raked over my chest, taking in the bruises and scars and tattoos. A chest like that didn’t belong in a nice little house like Alex’s; I had the body of a white trash boy with too little guidance and too much anger. 

“‘Fuck you’?” Alex read one of the tattoos, a one-year old addition above my left hip. I hummed in agreement. It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision but had been far too applicable to my life to get covered up. Standall traced my chest piece with his eyes, following it up to my face. He smiled sadly at me and my drunk self laughed. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” I said. “Fuckin’ hate it.” 

“Like what?”

“Like… I don’t know… you know…” I gesticulated a little and then sighed and gave up. 

“Like what, Justin?” Alex asked again. I swallowed hard and shrugged. 

“Doesn’t matter.” I said. A tentative hand placed itself on my forearm. I looked anywhere but Alex’s eyes, my gaze settling on the scar on the side of his head. The doctors had done a good job with it, it was nothing but a dark line cutting across the skin above his ear. It was almost funny that such a major event had dwindled into nothing but a pencil-thin scar. 

Standall’s hand was weirdly hot on my arm and my skin tingled where he was touching me. I drunkenly imagined what it would feel like to have him touch more of me, how his tongue would taste on mine, the way his breath would feel on my neck… I felt myself laugh at the absurdity of my thoughts. 

“Yeah. It does matter.” Alex said quietly. He was so close I could see the flecks of gold in his eyes. And then his lips were on mine. I had no idea how it happened, if he had initiated it or if I had; All I knew was that it felt good. Really good. Standall’s tongue pressed its way between my teeth and I felt him hum in enjoyment. I felt sloppy and slow from the alcohol and my body moved at least two paces behind my brain, but it still felt amazing. It had been way too long since I’d kissed someone like this, slow and passionate. 

I felt my crotch twinge and all of a sudden the reality of what was going on hit me like a train. 

“Wait… what the fuck?” I breathed. Alex pulled back, too, eyes wide and mouth agape. 

“Sorry, I just-”

“I’m not gay, dude.” I said. “I’m just drunk.” I pulled myself up to my feet using the wall and stumbled a little as I struggled to stand. Alex looked like he was going to be sick. 

“No, me neither.” He said in a faraway voice. “You should maybe just sleep it off. Forget about… whatever that was… okay?”

“Yeah. Never happened.” 

“Right.” Standall agreed, shooting me a shaky smile. He went straight to his bedroom and I heard the door lock. I had passed from a frustrated drunk to a tired one and collapsed on the blow-up bed. I could still taste Alex on my lips. He tasted like a mix of joy, shame, self-hatred, and peace all at the same time. 

“Fuck.” I whispered to myself as I stared up at the ceiling of Alex’s basement apartment. Maybe I’d just hallucinated that whole thing. The thought was both encouraging and disappointing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Lots of language, mentioned drug use, physical violence. 
> 
> As usual, comments and suggestions appreciated! Thanks so much for the kudos and feedback so far!


	6. One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weeks pass. Justin can't get his and Alex's kiss out of his mind. Jess and Justin reconnect and re-form a relationship but Justin has some unresolved issues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait! 
> 
> Yes, there is a time gap between the last one and this one.   
> Yes, Alex/Justin will still happen. 
> 
> Warnings at the bottom.

“Try this on.” Jess giggled, throwing a leopard print coat over the change room door.

“What the fuck is this?” I laughed.

“Just put it on!”

“I’ll look like Marco, the homeless guy behind the Walplex.” I said, shrugging it on anyway. I checked in the mirror and gaped in mild horror. 

“Let me see! Please, Justin!”

“This is another level of fuck-ugly.” I said, tugging the coat closer around myself. “Oh, God.”

“Please! I have to see this!” Jess pleaded. I strutted out of the change room like a model and she burst out laughing, wheezing between fits of melodic Jessica laughter. I wondered if Alex would find this coat hilarious…  _ Fuck, not this again _ . I tried to suppress the memory of what I thought happened all those nights ago at Alex’s. There was no way that really happened… right? 

“Jesus, it even smells like Marco!” I said, pulling the coat off quickly. 

“You have to get it!” Jess said, her voice raw from laughing. “It looks so good on you. It can be your pimp coat!” 

“My ‘pimp coat’?” I asked, draping it over Jess’ shoulders. I pulled her close with the coat and she giggled. “Who am I pimping out?” I almost-whispered. Jess let out a shuddering breath and ran her hand along my chest. 

“Whoever you want.” She said, her fingers dancing along the bottom of my shirt. My skin tingled where her fingers were. 

“Mom! What are those people doing?” I heard a child say. Jess made a face and slipped out from beneath the coat. I put the pimp coat back on the rack. 

“None of your business, little boy.” I said to the kid standing next to the change rooms. He kept staring at me. 

“What’s wrong with your skin?” He asked. 

“They’re tattoos. You need to get out more, kid. ” I said. I felt Jess put a hand on my arm.

“Don’t be rude.” She said, though she couldn’t hide her smile. 

“M’not being rude.” I shrugged. Jess shook her head and handed me another pile of thrift shop clothes. 

“Here. This stuff looks nice. And it’s in the price range.” She said. I leaned over and kissed her. 

“Thanks, but you really don’t have to-”

“I want to. It’s fine.” Jessica said. She gestured for me to get back in the change room and sat gingerly on the waiting bench. I never remembered her being awkward in places like these. Then again, I never remembered her wearing so much makeup or getting her nails done regularly. She changed a little while she was gone, too. 

I tried on more clothes than I wanted to. I was sick of shopping after the first two T-shirts, but I forced myself to keep going. Clearly, Jess thought my five-or-more-year-old wardrobe needed some updating. I pretended not to be offended when she paid for half, even though I begged her to let me pay for the whole thing. It wasn’t until the cashier glared me down and told me to “just let the nice girl pay, for Christ’s sake!” that I finally let up. 

“I’ll pay you back.” I said. 

“Don’t worry about it. It was my parents’ money.” Jess said. I hugged her from behind and leaned my chin against her shoulder. 

“Who said anything about money?” I whispered. 

“You gonna pay me in food stamps?” Jess giggled. I kissed the base of her neck. 

“Mm. I had something else in mind.” I said. Jess leaned back against me and pressed her lips to mine. 

“Your place or mine?” She asked. 

“Your dad got mad last time. Mine?” I said. Jess nodded. She bit her plump bottom lip and I felt like the luckiest guy alive. And then I remembered Standall’s lips, the way they felt on mine…  _ fuckkkkk _ . 

“Something wrong?” Jess asked. 

“No. I was just thinking about how lucky I am.” I said. Jess laughed and shook her head. 

“No, you weren’t.” She teased.

“I was! I swear!” I said, laughing. “Why would I lie about that?” Jess kissed me again and hopped into the shotgun seat of my car. 

 

***

 

I ran my fingers absently through Jess’ curls, her breath warm against my chest. Her hand lightly traced the curve of my ribs. I closed my eyes contentedly and let out a long, tired breath. 

“I missed you.” I breathed. 

“You said that yesterday.” Jessica said. 

“Well, I meant it yesterday.” I shrugged. “And today.” 

“Mmhmmm.” Jess let out a sigh against my chest and kissed down towards my belly button. My breath caught and I squirmed a little under her mouth. 

“Oh. Fuck, Jess…” I said. She continued kissing farther and farther down, pushing the blankets off me. All of a sudden, I imagined that hot mouth was Alex’s, that his hands were the ones gripping my thighs. 

“Wait, wait, wait, stop.” I said quickly, pulling away. I cleared my throat. 

“What is it?” Jess asked. 

“I’m not… Uh… I’m not feeling it right now.” I lied. Jess looked under the covers. 

“You might want to pass that message along to your  _ friend _ .” She said, quirking a finger in the direction of my cock. I tried to give her a smile, but it faltered. 

“Yeah, I know.” I said. “It’s just… Carl’s home. He gets mad about that shit.” That part was true. Carl and I had had many an argument about bringing girls home, and how much rent I needed to pay to earn that privilege. 

“You sure? You look like you just saw a ghost.” Jess said. I checked if the beer on my bedside table was empty. It wasn’t. I took a swig and offered it to Jessica. She shook her head ‘no’ so I finished it. 

“Are you thinking about junior year again?” She said, her voice weirdly small. 

“No.” I said, though hearing her say it brought back all sorts of memories I didn’t want to deal with. I pulled a cigarette from the pack on the bedside table and lit one. 

“Good.” She said, leaning her head against my shoulder. 

“Derek has a baseball game today. I said I’d drive him. You wanna come?” I said, taking a drag from my cigarette. Jess wrinkled her nose microscopically as the smell wafted towards her. She shook her head. 

“I have to work at three.” She said. 

“Okay. Wanna get lunch, then?” I asked. Jessica checked her watch. 

“It’s already 12. I promised my dad I’d come home before work, so I should probably go.” Jess said. She slid her hand across my chest one more time. “Unless you’re feeling it again, then I can probably be a little late.” 

I laughed around my cigarette. 

“You should go see your dad.” I kissed her, trying not to let the hurt on her face get to me. 

“Okay. Fine.” She said, pushing herself off my bed. 

“I’m sorry, Jess, I’m just - Things are a little tense around here right now.” I said. 

“I get it. I’ve dated you before.” Jess said, pulling on her jeans. I chewed my bottom lip, trying to figure out how that comment made me feel. 

“I’ll make it up to you. Dinner tomorrow?” 

“Sure.” Jessica said. I pecked her on the cheek and led her to the door. 

“I’ll text you.” I said. Jess nodded. “Have a good shift.”

“Tell the big man good luck in his game.” Jessica flashed a small smile before going down the rickety trailer steps towards her car. 

 

I pulled the door shut and padded into the kitchen to make myself some coffee. We were out of milk again so I just used water. 

“She’s nice.” Carl said, pouring what was left of the coffee pot into his mug. 

“Jessica?” 

“Uh. Yeah, Jessica…” He said slowly. I shrugged. 

“Yeah. She is.” I sipped at the bitter coffee. Carl checked the fridge for milk or cream, just as I’d done before. 

“Ah, shit. I forgot to get cream.” He said, putting his mug under the sink. He made a quick scribble on the ever-growing grocery list. 

“Maybe if you went grocery shopping more than once a month, we wouldn’t -”

“Kid. You make money, too.” Carl said. 

“Yeah, but I don’t have my 8-year-old son to feed.” I retorted. 

“Derek always has enough to eat.” Carl said. “I make sure of that. I’ve been making sure of that for 8 goddamn years.” 

“What about milk, huh? What kid doesn’t drink milk?” I said, gesturing to the fridge. 

“A lactose intolerant one.” Carl told me, crossing his tree-trunk arms over his chest. I felt my eyebrows shoot up. 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah. Derek’s lactose intolerant.” Carl took another sip from his coffee. I felt heat rising up my neck and cheeks.

“Shit. I didn’t know that.” I said. I’d bought cheese strings and yogurt tubes, the stuff I liked as a kid. No wonder he hadn’t touched them. 

“Ah, it’s my bad. I should’ve told you.” Carl said. “You’ve been pulling your weight around here, lately, so I can’t have you waste money on shit no one’s gonna eat.” 

“I eat whatever, so that’s not really a problem.” I said with a shrug. Carl cracked a smile. 

“I noticed.” He chuckled. Now that his kind grey eyes didn’t look on me with hatred, I felt a wave of some sort of affection. The fatherly sort. 

“How’s Mom?” I asked. Carl’s smile disappeared. 

“The doctor was in yesterday. They’re still diagnosing her, but I hear them throwing around some crazy psychobabble shit like ‘dysthymia’ and ‘anhedonia’, whatever the fuck those words mean.” Carl shook his head and sighed. “They say they’ll get her on some meds eventually.” Those terms meant nothing to me. They sounded more like Greek gods than anything else. 

“What’s wrong with her?” I asked, sounding more like a little kid than I’d hoped or expected. 

“Uh… From what I gather, it’s some sort of persistent depression and apathy. I don’t know. One of them said she might be manic depressive.” Carl shrugged. The word ‘manic’ sent a shiver down my spine. 

“What the fuck is that?”

“Bipolar.” Carl said. I let out a sigh. 

“Jesus Christ.” I said. I didn’t know anything about bipolar disease, or any of these other weird-ass diseases the doctors seemed to be pulling out of their asses. 

“Yup.” Carl sipped his coffee again and frowned. He took a flask from his back pocket and poured some of its contents into his coffee. He offered it towards me. I poured some liquor into my coffee too. 

“You gonna take off?” I asked, surprising myself. 

“To the station? Not for another hour.” Carl shrugged. 

“No. I mean, like, for good. Now that you know Mom’s fucked in the head and all. You gonna leave, too?” I asked. I felt his eyes on me, those clear grey eyes that could go from loving you to hating you in two seconds flat. 

“No, Justin.” Carl said softly. His tone sent warmth spreading through my chest. I tried to smile at him, but I felt tears pricking my eyes. 

“Everyone else does.” I mumbled with a shrug. 

“What?” Carl said. I swallowed the growing lump in my throat and swiped at my eyes.

“Fuck. Sorry.” I muttered, more to myself than anyone else. 

“Hey. Listen up.” Carl said, his big hand on my shoulders. “Like it or hate it, I’ll be around for a while.” He cracked a smile and I made a throaty half-chuckle half-sob sound that I would go to my grave swearing I couldn’t make. Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around him, pressing my face into Carl’s wide chest. 

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay, kid. It’s okay.” Carl said. He wrapped his arms around me too, and they were surprisingly warm and soft. It baffled me how a man that could be so terrifying could also be so comforting. I let myself sink into him, imagine he was my real dad, even, as sad as that was. I inhaled the smell of cheap cologne, liquor, cigarettes, and fire that never quite left him.

“You and Laryssa are family now.” Carl said into my shoulder. “I fucked up a few weeks ago, but I protect my family, okay? I’m not going anywhere.” I nodded into his warm arms. I forgave him for everything. I forgave him for choking me, punching me, yelling at me; hell, I probably would have forgiven him for murder right then. 

 

***

 

“Good news!” I said, sliding into the booth across from Jessica. 

“Yeah? What is it?”

“Okay, two things. First, Derek won his game.” I said. Jess mini-clapped. “Yep. And second, I think Carl and I made up. I think we’re cool now.”

“Are you serious?” She asked. I nodded. 

“Yeah!”

“Your mom has a boyfriend who isn’t a complete asshole?” Jess asked.

“Well, he still beat me up that one time, but I’m over it.” I said. Her mouth tightened at the reminder. 

“I forgot about that.” She fiddled with the menu. 

“He’s not that bad. He never touched me except that night. And I deserved it because I was trying to make him angry, so really -”

“Justin.” 

“What?” I asked. Jess bit her lip.

“Just, be careful, okay? Don’t be too quick to give people second chances when you’ve already seen their true colours.” She said, tapping the menu against the table. I frowned. 

“Okay… Uh. Is everything alright? Like, with you?” I asked. She smiled. 

“Yeah! I’m good. I just don’t want you to get hurt again by some douchebag.” Jess brushed her hand against mine on the table. 

“Okay. You just sound a little weird.”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.” Jessica assured me, giving my hand a squeeze. 

We ordered some food I could barely afford and talked about everything from her dad’s upcoming deployment to how Derek played in his last baseball game. 

“He’s a great first baseman.” I explained. 

“I bet. Foley genes.”

“We’re not blood-related.” I said, though it still made me smile. 

“Close enough.” 

“I’m gonna teach him how to hit like a state semi-finalist though.” I said with a waggled eyebrow. Jess chuckled. 

“The way I remember it, you should’ve stuck with basketball.” She laughed. 

“Hey! I was good at baseball, too! And football!”

“What was that you did in the semi-final game, when -”

“Hey! That was an accident! That was-”

“Didn’t you hit the back catcher and knock him out? I think I remember that.” 

“He wasn’t in position!” I said. 

“Neither was the ball! You just went at him.” Jess said through a mouthful of steak. I laughed and shook my head. 

“Oh, fuck. I remember that now. He said something about my shoes, or -- wait, no, he said something about the way I smelled or something. Whatever it was, it pissed me off.” I said with a shrug. Jess nodded. 

“For the record, I always thought you smelled nice.” She said. I laughed. 

“Thanks, but I didn’t. I know that for a fact.” I rubbed the back of my neck and fought the urge to instinctively smell my shirt. 

“Do you want dessert? Or a drink?” I asked. “I got my paycheck and I’m in a good mood today, so I don’t mind splurging a little.” 

“Um, sure. I just… I think we should talk about something first though, before getting any alcohol.” Jess said. I felt my stomach tense.  _ What the fuck?  _ Nothing good ever started like that. 

“Shit.” 

“Don’t freak out. It’s not… bad.” Jess said. 

“Doesn’t sound good.” I said. “Is this about yesterday morning? At my place? Because I can totally make up for that after dinner. My  _ friend _ and I are on the same page tonight.” 

“No. No. Yesterday was fine.” She ran a hand over her hair and sighed.

“Alright…”

“Okay. I don’t really know how to say this, so I’ll just… Fuck…” Jess bit her lip. “I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you, and reliving old memories, all of that. It’s been… It’s been amazing, actually.” 

“What’s the problem, then?”

“Ughhh.” Jess stretched her neck out and massaged her own shoulders. “It’s just… I’ve put in a lot of effort into forgetting about junior year. I took meds, I went to therapy, I… I did everything. I put it all behind me.”

“That’s amazing, Jess.” I said, putting my hand on her arm. She closed her eyes and exhaled. 

“Thanks, Justin. I just feel like you haven’t.”

“Haven’t what?”

“Put it behind you.” Jessica said. My heart sank. “I feel like you’re still living in the past. You still seem like the same guy from four years ago. You haven’t really changed. And that’s not a bad thing! Not at all! Apart from the whole Bryce… that shit, I loved that guy from four years ago.”

“What the fuck’s the matter, then?” My voice was small and hoarse. 

“I’m not the same girl from four years ago!  _ I’ve  _ changed! And the person I am now doesn’t like who I was back then. I was scared, insecure, not sure what I was gonna do with my life. I cared too much about what other people thought of me... “

“Are you trying to say ‘it’s not you, it’s me’? Really?” I asked quietly, twirling a fork between my fingers. My eyes were fogging up and I bit down on my lip to keep my emotions in check. 

“Shit… I’m just trying to say that it’s hard! I still have feelings for you, okay? I always will. And I still love being around you, it’s just that… I don’t want to go back to how things were in junior year. I like my life now, and being with you just keeps reminding me of a really dark time and I don’t… ugh… fuck…” 

“I’m dragging you down?” I offered. Jess’ eyes widened. 

“No! Not like that.” 

“That’s basically what you’re saying.” I said. I wiped my face on my shirtsleeve. “I love you, Jess. You know I do. I know I’m not succeeding much… I still live with my mom, for chrissakes! But… I can’t stop thinking about you. Ever.” 

Jess muffled a sob in her sleeve and wiped a few tears from her face, trying to avoid her makeup, though the mascara was already running. 

“I don’t care if you go to college or not or whatever-” She started.

“Yes, you do!” I argued. 

“I don’t!” Jess said. “You just scare me sometimes.”

“What?” I asked. An image of Carl popped into my head, the way he looked at me when his hands were around my throat. A few other men followed him, Seth among them. “I would never hurt you, I swear to god, Jess, I would never!” 

“Not me! I’m scared you’ll hurt yourself.” She said. 

“What?”

“You’re self-destructive, Justin! You don’t deal with your problems. You run away, smoke pot, drink, whatever you can do to avoid dealing with anything. And it follows you around. I can feel it, all the shit you’re carrying around with you. It’s gonna destroy you.” 

“Just because I don’t go to _ therapy _ doesn’t mean I don’t ‘deal with my problems’.” I said. “I’m fine.” 

“This is what I mean. The guilt, the hatred, the anger, whatever the fuck you’re dealing with that you think you have to carry alone, it’s killing you! It’ll eat you alive from the inside out, I swear to god.” Jess said. “And I can’t… I just can’t be a part of that. I’ll be there as a friend -”

“What the fuck, Jess?” I choked. 

“Get help, Justin. Forgive yourself.  _ Move on _ . Please.” 

“Or else you’re just gonna leave?” 

“Justin - “

“Are you fucking kidding me?” My voice cracked. 

“Hey, hey, hey. You know I’m not trying to hurt you. You’ve gotta know that by now.” Jess said. Her fingers traced small circles over the tattoo on the back of my hand.  _ You’ve got a funny way of ‘not hurting’ someone _ , I wanted to say,  _ feels an awful lot like pain to me.  _ I shook my head slowly, my throat constricting. No sound would come out. I was scared that if I tried, I would just cry and make an ass out of myself in a fancy restaurant. 

“I’m so sorry, Justin.” Jess said. She put her head onto my hand, leaving a small wet patch where her cheek brushed against me. “You can still call me whenever.” She said. I scoffed.  _ You won’t answer _ . “We can still be friends.”  _ That’s what they all say _ . 

I remembered the last time she broke up with me. I felt like that same kid, having just been told I was hated and that Jess never wanted to see me again in her whole life. 

“I fucked up.” I said. “I never should’ve let Bryce in that room. I should’ve broken the fucking door down, I shouldn’t have gotten you drunk in the first place, I should never have --” My voice cracked and I sobbed, pausing for breath. “I fucked up, Jess, I fucked up so bad!”

“Justin, it’s okay.” Jess said, sliding along the leather seat so she was on my side of the corner booth. She wrapped her arms around me and guided my head to her shoulder. I felt her tears hot on my neck. “I forgive you for that.”

“You shouldn’t.” I mumbled into her shirt. I heard her sniffle. 

“You were drunk, too. You were scared. Bryce was a fucking refrigerator.” She chuckled darkly. “And he fucked with your mind, made you think you owed him for something. It’s… It was all Bryce. Whether the door was open or not, you didn’t make him do what he did. He did it himself, okay?” Jess’ ragged voice was still stronger than I could’ve imagined. 

“I should’ve done something.” I said. “Fuck!”

“You can’t change it now, Justin. Move. On.” Jessica whispered. I could almost hear the words of Jess’ therapist from three and a half years ago coming out of her mouth. She’d been right earlier. I was fucked up. I was making things harder for her. I’d proven her right. 

“I think I should go.” I said, separating myself from Jess. I put all my money down on the table and rushed to the door without looking back, ignoring the waiter who asked if I wanted a dessert menu. I could have shoved that dessert menu up his ass. 

 

 

 

I was too upset to drive so I just walked. I checked my phone and saw a message from Alex. 

 

**Alex: Hey. We need to talk.**

**Alex: Call me when you can.**

 

Another talk? What would this one entail? Would Alex call me a fag, say I ruined our slowly-growing friendship? Did he hate me too? Whatever the case, Alex certainly would’ve been creeped out. I could’ve just said it was because I was drunk and I mistook him for someone else. Or I could pretend I didn’t remember anything. I knew he remembered, though, because he wasn’t drunk at the time... But if that was the case, why hadn’t he pulled back first?

I fought the urge to throw my phone as hard as I could at the floor. I thought about all the tiny, satisfying pieces it would break into. I imagined the sound the glass would make as it shattered. I settled for kicking a bus stop shelter. That did nothing but hurt my foot. I turned my phone off and waited for the bus. There was a stop close to the trailer park; I could walk the rest of the way. 

A young, frisky couple tried to share the shelter with me, but a quick once-over convinced them to wait outside. I must have really looked like shit. The salt on my face had dried and I felt stiff. I would have tried to wash it off somehow, but all I had to do was think about Jessica or Alex or how I’d ruined two good things and I would be just as upset as before. 

“The fuck you lookin’ at?” I demanded when the couple stared for a little too long. They raised their eyebrows and chuckled to each other before making out in front of the bus stop. 

I was dragging Jess down. I was dragging everybody down. I was the only one left who hadn’t changed. Jess was right. I was living in the past and couldn’t forgive myself. I was guilty, alone, and a total fucking mess. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Language, mention of a rape situation, mention of abuse, some PDA stuff. Nothing major, just putting it down here so no one can get mad at me. 
> 
> This one is a little dark... But it gets darker... sorry.


	7. Watch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin calls Alex and subsequently runs into trouble that might hurt his and Alex's slowly growing relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late chapter. The flashback/dream will be referenced again in the next chapter FYI, as the two chapters were originally supposed to be one. 
> 
> Warnings at the bottom.

_“Bryce! Bryce! Bryce, lookit!” A young boy about 8 cries, shooting a basketball. He sinks the shot and snaps his head towards the group of other boys, hoping for a reaction. None of them are looking. All the other boys are crowding around an object, a remote-controlled truck. The truck is being controlled by one of the tallest boys. He smiles and makes a joke to the other boys._

_“Hey! Bryce! Watch!” The boy playing basketball yells. He pushes dirty, unruly hair from his forehead. The tall boy with the remote control lifts his head at the sound of his name but turns back to his friends and new toy._

_“I wish I got that for my birthday!” One of the boys says. Bryce smiles at that. The boy with the basketball shoots another basket then dribbles aimlessly, watching the group with a mixture of anger and jealousy._

_“Bryce! Watch! I wanna show you something!” Bryce looks up annoyedly._

_“Shut up, Justin.” He says, making the toy car spin. The other boys watch in awe._

_“I can shoot it from here! Look! Bryce!” Justin sinks a shot from an impressive distance, but again no one watches. His face falls in disappointment. He retrieves the ball and holds it against his skinny frame, his eyes glued to Bryce’s toy car._

_The group of boys_ ohh _and_ ahh _as Bryce makes his new toy do tricks on the pavement. Justin turns the basketball in his hands for a few seconds before hurling it in the direction of the remote-controlled truck. There is a satisfying smashing sound and a few pieces of plastic and metal skitter across the pavement. Bryce whirls angrily in Justin’s direction while the rest of the boys either hide a laugh or scream out in anger._

_“What’s wrong with you?” Shouts Bryce, closing the distance between himself and the smaller boy. Justin watches him with a mixture of fear and lingering anger._

_“I’m sorry.” He says in a small voice. “But - but you weren’t watching.”_

_“I never should have invited you!” Bryce pushes Justin to the ground. “No one even wanted you here. My_ parents _made me invite you_.” _Justin’s chin trembles but he gets back to his feet._

_“I didn’t want to come to your stupid party, anyway!” Justin says._

_“Fine! Go home, then!” Bryce shouts. The other boys gather around. Justin crosses his arms and looks between all the boys, hoping one of them will disagree with Bryce. Justin wipes tears from his face and shakes his head. He and Bryce stand across from each other, staring at each other._

_“Bryce! What happened to your truck?” Mrs. Walker demands, observing the broken toy. Justin shakes his head repeatedly, pleading Bryce with his eyes._

_“It broke.” Bryce says._

_“How?” Mrs. Walker demands. Justin’s eyes widen and begin to water again. Bryce straightens up._

_“I don’t know.” Bryce lies. Mrs. Walker’s eyes rake over the two boys, taking note of Justin’s distress. Her mouth tightens into a thin line._

_“Justin. I think it’s time you went home.” Mrs. Walker says, gingerly putting a hand on the boy’s back. She makes sure not to let her eyes linger on the ratty sneakers, worn-out clothes, or light finger-shaped bruises on the boy’s arms. Mrs. Walker keeps her gaze on her son and his broken truck._

_“But I didn’t do anything! I swear!” Justin pleads._

_“Craig will drive you home.” Mrs. Walker says as she walks towards the gigantic house to retrieve her husband. Justin meets Bryce’s eyes but Bryce only shrugs._

_“You owe me for lying.” Bryce says._

_“Why?” Demands Justin, “I have to leave, anyway!”_

_“So? You still owe me.” Bryce crosses his arms over his chest, daring the smaller boy to challenge him. Justin shrugs in nonchalant agreement._

_“Fine.”_

 

 

I woke up wondering why the fuck I was dreaming about Bryce’s birthday party from a million years ago. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and pushed myself off the couch. Now that I was awake, I couldn’t remember what had even happened in my dream. I just knew it had something to do with basketball. I checked my phone again. Fuck. I didn’t want to talk to Alex. I’d been avoiding him since that night at his house. Part of me was still trying to convince myself it never happened. The other part of me wished it would happen again. I don’t know if that was because of my breakup with Jessica, if I was feeling particularly lonely or some shit, or just because kissing Alex hadn’t felt nearly as weird as it should’ve.

I shuffled into the kitchen for coffee, finding some already made. Carl must’ve left for work already. I made toast and an extra cup of joe and cracked the door to my mom’s room open a sliver.

“Mom?” I called into the darkness. The mound of blankets I assumed was my mother didn’t move. “I brought breakfast.”

“Go away.” She whispered. I sat gingerly on Carl’s side of the bed, putting the plate and mug on the bedside table.

“Mom, please. You have to eat something.”

“Get out, Justin.”

“No.” I crossed my arms and looked at her, or at least the part of her that was visible from under all those blankets. Her hair was lank and greasy and her eyes were wide open, staring unfocusedly at the far wall. If came to a waiting contest, I knew she would kick my ass.

“You wanna go to the park? It’s gorgeous outside.” I said, shaking her shoulder. Mom only groaned. I put my chin on her shoulder. “We could just go out back and push Derek on one of those swings back there. Remember when you used to push me on the swings? That was fun, huh? You wanna do that?”

“Go away, Justin.” She grunted.

“Last month you said you wanted to fix the stairs… We could do it together. I know my way around tools, now.” I proposed. “Or we could just go to the living room and watch a movie. Does that sound better?” Mom gave no answer. She only pulled the blankets up the her chin and kept staring at the wall.

“How about… we could go surprise Carl at the firehouse! It would make him super happy, Mom. You just need to get in the car. I’d drive. How’s that?”

“Fuck off!” She howled, surprising me. I jumped back and caught my breath.

“Fine.” I said, “But I’m leaving the food here, okay?” I took the silence as my cue to leave.

“Fuck,” I whispered under my breath as I pushed the door closed. I never knew what to do when she was like that. I felt utterly useless. When I was a kid, those times were the worst. We would run out of food and money and I’d sit by her bed begging her to go grocery shopping, or at least give me some money to do it myself. I would think it was my fault and offer all sorts of crappy school projects as apologies. None of her boyfriends knew what to do, either, so most of them bailed when she was depressed. That, or grew increasingly angry, usually taking it out on the only person they could: me.

I made my own breakfast and sat at the table, stirring Lucky Charms endlessly, watching the colours swirl in the milk. I checked my phone again, scrolling through the messages from Alex. I had to admit it felt good to have someone blowing up my phone instead of the other way around. My finger hovered over the call button, my stomach clenching and unclenching. _Fuck it_. I called.

“Hello?” Alex said. His voice was tinny like he was driving.

“Hey, it’s Justin.” I said, though he probably had my number saved. I was just saving myself the embarrassment of having Alex not know who it was. “You said you wanted to talk.”

“Were you avoiding me?” Alex asked, straightforward as ever. I sigh.

“Uh… no.” I lied. Alex scoffed on the other line. “I mean, sort of.”

“Why?”

“Why do you think?” I snapped.

“If it’s about that night at my house, I can explain.” Alex said with a shaky breath. Wait, why would _he_ explain?

“Uh... okay.” I said. I thought _I_ was the one who owed Alex an explanation.

“I’m done screwing around. I’m just gonna say it.” Alex said, and I got the feeling he was talking to himself more than to me. I shifted the phone in my hand, my heart beating fast.

“Okay…” I said.

“I wasn’t drunk. Like, at all. But you were shitfaced and I took advantage of that. I didn’t push you off because I liked it, okay? I like _you_.” Alex spoke quickly, as if trying to get it all out before his courage ran out. I felt my throat constrict and I just nodded, even though Alex couldn’t see it.

“And I feel like shit because I wouldn’t have told you to stop, even though you were drunk and I know you don’t think of me that way when you’re sober so it would’ve been rape if-”

“I liked it, too, Alex.” I finally said. It almost scared me that I meant it.

“Wait, you did?” Alex demanded. “Really?” He sounded almost embarrased and I felt a smile creep across my face.

“Yeah. And I don’t know what to think about that ‘cause, you know, I’m not gay or anything.” I said. I kept stirring my cereal, even though it had turned into a colourful mush.

“I think I’m bi.” Alex said on the other line.

“Dude, I’ve known that since high school.”

“Fuck you, man.”  He laughed.

“So… what now?” I asked. Nerves had made a lump grow in my throat and I struggled to swallow it down.

“Uhh… I thought you and Jessica got back together.” Alex said. My heart sank.

“That’s over.” I nearly whispered, my voice cracking slightly.

“Fuck. Sorry, man.” Alex said.

“Yeah.” I said. I couldn’t bring myself to say that it was okay, because it wasn’t. I still replayed that conversation over and over in my head whenever I wasn’t distracted or high.

“If you need to talk to anyone…”

“I’m good.” I said.

“Okay.” Alex cleared his throat on the other line and the phone made and angry crackling sound. “So could we, like, hang out? See what happens?”

“Sure.” I agreed.

“I don’t want to pressure you into anything right after a breakup, but-”

“We can hang out. That’s fine.” I said. Really, being around Alex would be a good way to take my mind off Jess. Something about him just made all your problems fade into the background.

“Okay!” Alex said enthusiastically. “I’m technically working right now so I’ll text you soon, alright?”

“Yeah. Sure.” I agreed. We said goodbye and hung up.

 

I took a bite of my Lucky Charm mush and found that it wasn’t half-bad. It wasn’t until I was halfway through the bowl that my mind drifted back towards Jessica. I could still see her shaky smile as she spoke, her words hurting both of us equally. I wasn’t good enough for her. That was it. My cereal suddenly tasted like sawdust.

I heard the front door slam shut and held my hand up to greet Derek as he entered the trailer. He didn’t look at me, just threw his baseball bat and glove angrily to the floor and stalked to his room. I froze mid-bite, still staring at the space Derek had just occupied. The air seemed to pulse with his anger. I assumed that the big-brotherly thing to do would be to go talk to him, but I really didn’t know how to do that. No one had ever done it for me. Usually, I’d let Carl deal with whatever was going on with Derek. I sucked at being a brother and I knew I’d suck even more at being a father.

Despite my instincts telling me I’d probably only make things worse, I finished my Lucky Charms and snuck to Derek’s room. I felt weirdly parental as I rapped quietly on the door.

“Hey, man, you in there?” I called.

“Go away.” Derek said. I was reminded of my mom.

“You wanna talk about it?” I cringed as the words came out of my mouth.

“No!” Derek shouted. He paused. “I hate baseball.”

I pushed the door open, taking that as a quasi invitation.

“You don’t hate baseball.” I said, closing the door behind me. Derek sniffled and shrugged. He wiped his face quickly and turned away from me. I wanted to tell him I didn’t care if he cried in front of me, but I had a feeling it would make him even more ashamed.

“Yes, I do. And I hate all the boys in the park.”

“Why?” I asked.

“They’re mean.” Derek shrugged.

“Did they do something to you?” I asked, my skin tingling. My fists had clenched without my permission.

“No. They just make fun of me, sometimes, ‘cause I live _here_.” Derek kicked his bedside table. He crossed his arms over his small body and frowned. I sat on the bed next to him.

“Tell you what, buddy: this place is like 10 times nicer than my old place.” I said. “I used to live in one of those public housing buildings with the junkies and people on welfare.” Derek smiled thinly.

“Like the _projects_?” Derek said, sounding almost impressed.

“Kinda like that, yeah, but it’s not the same as when rappers and shit say they’re from the projects. It’s, like, _way_ different. There’s no gangs or shootings or anything, here.” I explained. Derek looked disappointed and I felt some of my coolness disappear in his eyes.

“Oh. So you never got shot at?”

“No, but I almost got kidnapped, once. By some creepy dude in a van.” I supplied. Derek’s eyes lit up.

“Cool.”

“Uh… Not really, but okay.” I said. “I’m just saying that… I get it. It’s not the first or the last time you’ll get shit about it, either. It’s harder for us. People will laugh at us for shit we can’t control, we’ll have to work twice as hard for the same stuff, and everyone will just _assume_ they know what kind of a people we are because of where we come from. They’ll think you’re a screw-up right off the bat, and you’ll just have to work your ass off to prove that you’re not.”

“Okay.” Derek said, “ But what about the boys at the park?”

“Yeah, they’ll be mean. Those boys will always be mean. But you’ve just got to work so hard and get so good that they _have_ to respect you. You have to be better than all of them so they can’t look down at you anymore. Fuck, you’ve got to get so good that they’ve gotta have binoculars to see you way up there above their level.” I said. Derek’s smile grew so wide I thought his mouth might split open.

“Okay.” Derek nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll be the best player at the park and then they’ll fight over me when it’s time to pick teams!”

“Hell yeah, they will!” I said. _Just like they fought over me._

I still remembered those days playing on the public courts. The kids from my building would stick together, practicing at all hours of the day so we could kick all the rich kids’ asses at the park downtown. It hurt to think back to those days, to think of those boys who’d been my family. I hadn’t talked to any of them since the sixth grade. I’d chosen popularity, parties, and people like Bryce Walker, and it had all come back to bite me in the ass. Now, no one gave a shit that I went to some big-shot jock parties in high school or that Bryce deemed me his best friend. None of those popular guys helped me when I needed it, but those kids on the court had. The boys from my building used to sneak me into their apartments when things got bad, and I did the same for them. It was a kind of friendship that I missed now, even though I’d thrown it all away over a decade ago.

“You wanna go practice somewhere?” I asked. “I used to play baseball. I can help.”

“Yeah, sure!” Derek jumped up off the bed, grabbing his baseball and rushing out to where he left his glove and bat. A slow smile grew on my face as he almost tripped over a chair leg in his excitement.

 

***

 

“Just relax your shoulders and keep your eye on the ball, okay?” I said, getting ready to pitch Derek the ball. He just nodded, frowning in concentration. I threw it and he swung, the ball glancing off the underside of the bat and getting minimal air.

“I was trying to do that.” Derek lied. I smiled.

“You know what you did wrong.” I said. Derek nodded.

“I hit it like here-ish.” He said, gesturing on the bat. I nodded. “And I’m supposed to hit it more… here?”

“Exactly.” I threw him another, with similar results.

“I wasn’t ready!” Derek laughed.

“Bullshit!” I threw him another one. This time, it was perfect. He launched it way over my head into the field. I cheered. “That’s it, Derek! Do that, and all the boys at the park will worship you, I swear.” Derek grinned.

I retrieved his baseball and pitched him another. The bounced on the ground near first base.

“Fuck!” Derek shouted. I debated whether or not to say something about the swear word, but I figured it would sound pretty hypocritical coming from me.

“Hey, it’s okay. You got one awesome one. Watch MLB, there’s no one who hits a homer every single time. You’ve just gotta keep practicing.”

“If it’s so easy, you do it!” Derek said, throwing his bat to the ground. I sighed. I’d never said it was easy and I hadn’t played baseball in over four years.

“Oh, come on. Just keep going.”

“No.”

“You’ll never beat the park boys if you just quit.” I said. Derek seemed to mull this over, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Fine. You hit one and then we can keep practicing.” He said.

“Okay. But I’m warning you, I haven’t played since sophomore year.” Derek’s bat felt weirdly small and light in my hands as I swung a few times to get the feel of it.

“Ready?” Derek asked. I nodded.

I missed the first swing pretty pathetically. Derek laughed and I put my head in my hands.

“I wasn’t ready.” I said, chuckling. Derek’s eyes were shining with pride after having done a better job than his so-called coach. “Again, again. That was really bad.”

“Okay. Ready, Justin?”

The second hit flew high into the air and over the line of spindly trees that marked the end of the field. My mouth dropped open. I’d never hit a baseball that far on the Liberty team. Damn.

“Oh my god!” Derek lept up and down. “That was awesome! That was _epic_!”

“Holy shit.” I breathed. Derek laughed in excitement.

“I’ll go get it!” He volunteered, sprinting off in the direction of the street. I squatted down on the grass, leaning my arms on my knees. After playing ball boy all morning, I didn’t particularly feel like going to get this one.

On second thought, though, I was a little curious to see how far it went. I started a slow jog far behind Derek, watching him disappear through the trees. I got the sudden feeling I should speed up, so I did. That’s when I heard it. The car horn and the sickening sound of hastily applied brakes and the deep thud that comes from hitting an object rang through the air.

“Derek!” I shouted, sprinting through the tree line. I put my hands on my head to help me breathe as I caught sight of his tiny body lying on the road, blood slowly pooling around him.

“I’m so sorry, man, I didn’t see him. He just ran through the trees, dude!” A teenage boy was explaining, his voice shaking like he was about to cry. “Oh my god. Shit.”

I knelt next to Derek, checking for significant injuries. His head was bleeding badly and he had some deep scrapes on his arms and legs. His arm was bent at an unnatural angle. I felt tears sting my eyes.

“Call the fucking police!” I yelled at the driver. He looked to be in shock. He stared at Derek’s limp frame with wide eyes.

“He’s okay, right? He’s okay?” The teenager said, starting to cry for real. “Dude, don’t call the police. Please. Just bring him to a hospital or something. I don’t wanna go to jail, man, I don’t-”

“Maybe you should’ve fucking thought about that before you hit a kid with your car! Now, call the fucking cops!” I yelled, my voice cracking.

“My phone… I don’t… It’s in the car.” He said, stumbling to his vehicle. He slid into the driver’s seat to look for his phone and I saw him freeze. His eyes locked on mine for a second and I suddenly knew what he was going to do. I reached for my phone to take a picture of his license plate, but the teen had already driven away. I hadn’t even caught the make or model of the car.

“Fuck!” I screamed at no one in particular. I fumbled with my phone, eventually calling 9-1-1. I stammered the information to the operator, my voice thick and uneven. They said someone would be here in 10 minutes.

“Stupid kid.” I whispered affectionately at Derek, taking my shirt off to wrap it around his head wound. “You’ll be okay, buddy, you’ll be just fine.” I told him the story of how I broke my leg fulfilling a stupid bet at Bryce’s house while we waited for the cops and paramedics.

I’d hoped to God and all that was holy that I’d get any cop on the scene but Alex. It seemed like today was the day the universe would shit on me because, sure enough, Standall and his partner Jake showed up.

The paramedics placed Derek on a stretcher, speaking quickly to one another and loading him in the ambulance as fast as possible. I felt tears streaming consistently down my face as I swore continuously either out loud or in my head, I didn’t even know anymore.

“Sir, did you happen to record the license plate number of the man or woman who hit the boy?” Standall asked in full-on cop voice. I swallowed hard.

“Uh, no, I didn’t. But it was a teenage boy. He was wearing a Chicago Bulls hat. The car was… silver. It was a coupe. Toyota, maybe? Or Volkswagen?”

“Silver coupe with a teenage male driver?” Standall asked, clearly unimpressed by the little detail I could provide.

“I wasn’t thinking about the fucking car, okay! That’s my little brother!” I shouted. “Step-brother.” I corrected, as an afterthought. “I didn’t think that asshole would drive away!”

“Were you watching him at the time of the accident?” Alex asked, his eyes emotionless.

“Yeah, I was, but this isn’t my fault! I didn’t hit him, that teenage dickhead did!” I said shakily. “ _Alex_. You don’t have to treat me like a fucking criminal, here. I didn’t do anything.”

“Did you see him running towards the road?”

“Yeah. We were playing baseball and he went to get it…” I almost broke down sobbing when I spotted the baseball on the other side of the road, tucked into a bunch of weeds. “He was so excited, he probably forgot to look both ways.”

“Did you warn him?” I heard more of the real Alex in his voice now, in the barely-hidden disdain and anger.

“By the time I got there, it was too late.” I explained. “Alex, I swear to god, I love that kid. I would have done everything I could. I _did_ do everything I could.”

“Thank you for your time, sir. We may contact you for more information about the driver.” Standall said, his cop voice returned.

“Alex! Come on!” I pleaded.

“In the meantime, contact your insurance - his parent’s insurance company. Oh, and you should probably let your step dad know you that his kid got hit by a car on your watch.” Alex said. I felt the blood drain out of my face. _Fuck_. I hadn’t even thought about having to tell Carl.

“He’ll fucking kill me, Alex.” I said, and I saw pity flash briefly across his face as he realized that I wasn’t kidding. “He loves Derek more than anything. He’ll _kill me_ if that kid’s not okay. Tell me he’ll be okay. Please.”

“I don’t know.” Alex said with a small shrug. “But you should tell him as soon as possible. The longer you wait, the worse it’ll get.” He gave me a microscopic smile, but it was miles better than the stone-faced cop act. Nevertheless, it didn’t help the sinking feeling in my stomach. I felt like I was drowning. I picked up my phone, steeling myself for the fucking apocalypse to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Language, depiction of mental illness, car accident, driving away from an accident, referenced/implied child abuse.


	8. A Little Fucked Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carl and Justin have a surprising encounter in the hospital waiting room. Justin calls an unexpected 'friend' for support, and later his visit to Alex's doesn't go exactly as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alex/Justin fans, you'll finally be a little more satisfied. 
> 
> The Bryce/Justin relationship I hint at is basically shown in my other 13RW fanfic "The Only One" --> http://archiveofourown.org/works/10645311 since those two are my guilty pleasure. 
> 
> Warnings at the bottom

I sat on one of the hospital waiting room chairs, shaking. Hospitals have always freaked me out. I broke a lot of bones as a kid so I frequented this room quite often. The smell of cleaning products and too many people hung in the air, seeping into my clothes and making me want to hurl. I sat on my hands to keep them still. I couldn’t shake the thought of Derek lying on the pavement, blood trickling from the wound in his head. Every time I closed my eyes, his small frame appeared on my eyelids. I thought of him waking up in a cold, colourless hospital room and blaming me for letting him run in front of traffic. He wouldn’t be able to play baseball for a long time, of that I was sure. I swore under my breath and scrubbed my hands over my face. 

“Where’s my son?” I heard a deep, desperate voice shout. I immediately knew whose it was. All of a sudden, I couldn’t breathe. 

“Carl-” I choked, getting up slowly. “It’s not my fault-”

“You, shut up!” Carl ordered, pointing at me. He turned to one of the nurses. “Where. Is. My. Son?” He demanded. Carl was still wearing the navy cargo pants and T-shirt of his fire station, and they gave him an appearance of importance. The nurse was clearly intimidated as she looked over his muscular body, tattoos, and thick, cropped beard. 

“Sir, I don’t know who you are, so I don’t-”

“His name is Derek, he’s eight, got hit by a car? Ring a bell?” Carl asked, his voice thick with emotion. The nurse nodded and clicked through her computer. 

“He’s currently in a coma, but-”

“Oh, Jesus Christ.” Carl all but crumpled against the nurse’s desk. I swallowed and leaned back in my seat, wishing it could absorb me into itself.  _ Coma _ . The word left a sour taste in my mouth. 

“Are you direct family?” The nurse asked. 

“Yes. He’s my goddamn son, I told you that already.”

“That’s right, I’m sorry, sir.” She said nervously. “Unfortunately, a doctor is with him at the moment so you’re welcome to sit and wait until a doctor lets you know that you can visit him.” 

“But he’s okay, right? He’s fine?” Carl’s voice cracked.

“Sir… I - The doctor will explain everything to you when he’s finished his evaluations.” The nurse offered a sympathetic smile and Carl’s face fell. His eyes were glistening and bloodshot when he took a seat two chairs down from me. 

I was almost expecting him to yell at me here and now, demand an explanation. I thought he would punch me in the face right in this hospital waiting room. I didn’t know why, but the silent shock and sadness hurt me ten times more than harsh words or a fist. His silent blame cut right down to my bone. 

“I’m sorry, Carl, he just-” My tentative apology died on my lips. I cleared my throat and started over. “It happened so fast, okay? I - I’m so fucking sorry.” Carl glared at me with wet, grey eyes. 

“Were you high?” He asked in a hoarse whisper. 

“What?”

“Just answer the question.”

“No.” I assured him. “No. I swear to god, I wasn’t.” I ran my hand over the coarse fabric of the seat cushion, prodding one of the holes in the upholstery with my finger. Carl just shook his head and sighed, pressing his palms against his brow bones. 

“Never should’ve fucking… Fuck.” Carl rubbed his beard with his hands. I saw a few tears fall from his eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” I said again, because I didn’t know what else to say. “I should have been watching for traffic or something, or… I don’t know…”

“Not let my son run into the fucking road when there’s cars going up and down that street all fucking day? Yeah, maybe.” Carl said bitterly, his voice so broken and weak it didn’t sound like the big bear of a man sitting next to me. 

“Yeah.” Was all I could say. I could have argued that he should have been looking, but I knew that was just an excuse. I was the adult, he was just an excited little kid who wanted to play ball. I shouldn’t have been that surprised that he didn’t check for traffic before running out of the tree line. 

“What can I do?” I asked, my eyes stinging as I noticed Carl was tracing his ‘Derek’ tattoo with his fingers. “To fix this… what can I do?” Carl said nothing, just shook his head and worked his jaw. I kept waiting for the moment when the switch would flip, when he’d suddenly grow angry and slam me against a wall or something. 

“Go.” Carl finally said. I swallowed hard and shrugged. 

“What do you mean?” I asked, though I knew exactly what he meant. Carl leaned his elbows on his knees and supported his chin on his hands. I saw his beard move subtly as his jaw clenched and unclenched. 

“Don’t let me see you again.” Carl said. His fists clenched and he breathed deeply and steadily, no doubt trying to control his rising anger. I almost wished he would hit me. God knows I deserved it. “I don’t want to do something I might regret.” 

“What about my mom?” I asked, remembering her still, despondent form wrapped in blankets. 

“Laryssa is getting treatment. She’ll be fine.” Carl said, an edge creeping into his voice. 

“But, I’ve dealt with her like this before, you-”

“ _ Justin _ .” Carl hissed. “Get your shit and leave. I don’t care where you go, but I never want to see you near my son again, understand?” Though his voice was still rough with emotion, the gravity of his words still hit me like a suckerpunch to the gut. 

“Carl, there was no way I could’ve known...” I pleaded as one last desperate effort. Carl’s bloodshot eyes held no pity. In 12 hours, all the progress I had made with my step dad had evaporated. This was proof of what I’d known since I’d moved back home; Derek would always be Carl’s first priority. I was nothing to him in comparison with his flesh and blood, despite his talk of me being family now. I knew my mom wouldn’t fight for me on this, either, this was it. They were a family of three: Laryssa, Carl, and Derek. There wasn’t any room for me. 

I pushed myself off the chair with legs like Jello. Tears stung my eyes and my throat was tight. 

“Call me when he wakes up. Please.” I said. Carl made no move for a while, but eventually nodded solemnly. I sighed gratefully but took Carl’s silence as my cue to leave. I felt like I was about to be sick. And I swear I wanted to punch the lady giving me a pathetically sympathetic smile. I glared at her and her expensive purse, daring her to say something about the conversation she’d clearly been eavesdropping on. But the waiting room lady simply averted her eyes and whispered something to her friend. I hovered near them for a split second before deciding I had far too little energy to care. 

 

***

 

I found a park in the middle of nowhere where I could leave my car for a while. Everything I owned was packed into the trunk, just like it had been when I’d first come to town. I felt the infinitely familiar feeling of failure wash over me, enveloping me in a wave of self-hatred.  _ Rinse and fucking repeat, huh? _ I checked my phone. Zero notifications. It was like the past few months had never happened. I was right back where I started, as per fucking usual. I scrolled through my contacts, needing to talk to someone. 

 

**Justin: Hey Alex. Can u talk?**

 

I stared at the message for a few seconds, waiting for the typing bubbles to pop up. 

 

 **Alex:** **At work. Off at 7. Talk then?**

**Justin: It’s ok. Nvm.**

**Alex: Are you sure? I don’t mind.**

**Justin: I’m good. Nvm.**

**Alex: Okay…?**

 

My hands shook as I closed the message window. My confidence had shattered. Alex didn’t want to hear my bullshit, again. Sooner or later he’d realize what a complete fuck-up I was and he’d want nothing to do with me. Shit, I needed a smoke. 

I rummaged around my duffel bag for some weed. I rolled up a few joints on my armrest and lit the first one, cracking the windows open. I wished I had some alcohol, too, so that I’d really be able to put all this shit behind me for a while. I had some in the trunk, but the pot was already starting to affect me and the last thing I wanted to do was get up and open up the trunk. 

I flipped the mirror down and looked at myself. My eyes were bloodshot, the skin around my eyes and cheeks looked rough and red, and my hair was a mess. I looked like I’d just been on one hell of a bender and I hadn’t even started yet. I chuckled a little to myself at that. 

I leaned the seat all the way back and let the marijuana work its magic, erasing my stress and worry about Derek for a moment. I found a paper takeout bag tucked into the door of the car and occupied myself by folding and unfolding it to the beat of my music. I scrolled through my social media accounts, smiling bitterly as I saw a picture of Montgomery kissing a beautiful girl in front of his car, with a caption about the great 2 years they’d shared together. Fuck Montgomery and his pretty little college girlfriend and nice little college friends commenting their inside jokes and shit… Fuck them all. 

Anger made my heart skip a beat as I noticed Bryce had commented. That, and Montgomery had humorously replied. How could Bryce do what he did to Jess and still be on better terms with the Liberty guys than I was? How the fuck was that possible? I may have done some stupid stuff in high school, but I still wasn’t a goddamn rapist. 

I got out of the car and popped the trunk. I drank the whiskey straight from the bottle, my eyes still glued to my phone. Now, I looked through Bryce’s instagram, all the while wondering when the fuck this had become my life. He had friends… Bryce Walker, rapist asshole extraordinaire, was in college and playing football and going to parties. He was just fine. I scoffed in disbelief and tried to drown my anger a little further, at the expense of my liver. Without thinking, I had dialed Bryce’s number and the line was ringing.

“Hello?” A familiar voice asked on the other line. I almost hung up right then. His voice was deeper and a little rougher, but it was undoubtedly him. “Who is this?” 

“Uh… Wrong number, I think.” I choked, but I couldn’t make myself hang up. I heard a bit of rustling on the other line, then a shallow laugh. 

“Is this Justin?” He asked, his voice growing more excited than I’d expected. My surprise outweighed my embarrassment so I stayed on the line.

“Yeah.” I said. “Hey.” 

“Dude! Where the hell have you been? You fell off the face of the Earth!” 

“Here and there, I guess.” I said, my words audibly fading into one another. Bryce chuckled on the other line. 

“You okay?” He asked. I couldn’t stop the harsh bark of laughter that ripped out of my throat. 

“Nah.” I said with a slightly raspy giggle. “Not really, no.” There was more distant rustling on Bryce’s end, but he didn’t say anything. Part of me expected him to hang up the phone. 

“Why are you calling me?” He finally asked. I shook my head and shrugged, but then remembered he couldn’t see me. 

“I don’t fucking know.” I said, my voice cracking against my will. “I guess…”

“No one else to call?” Bryce said, no doubt remembering all the other times he’d been my last resort. I sank down onto the gravel, leaning my head against my car. 

“Pretty much.” I admitted, the alcohol helping my honesty along. 

“Like the good old days, huh?” He said lightheartedly. 

“Don’t.” I pleaded. 

“Don’t - what? I bet you missed me, huh? Always being there to bail you out.” I could almost hear his shit-eating grin. 

“I don’t need you anymore.” I slurred, but I knew that if he offered me a place to stay like he had in high school, I wouldn’t say no. 

“Yeah, you’re right. You sound fine.” Bryce laughed. “‘Cause being hammered at 11 in the morning is totally normal, bro.” 

“I’m not your fucking bro.” I said. 

“Okay, man.” Bryce chuckled. “Where are you?”

“Like 10 minutes from the school.” I said. 

“From the  _ high _ school?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh, shit.” Bryce laughed again and I bit back the urge to tell him to shut the fuck up and stop laughing. 

“How about you?” 

“I’m in Michigan, man.” Bryce said. “Can’t really help you out.” 

“Already said I don’t need you.” I said. “I just… Someone got hurt ‘cause of me. He might even die.  _ Fuck _ . I’m fucked… If he dies, I dunno... “ 

“Jesus.” Bryce sighed into the phone. “Was it like the whole Hannah Baker thing, or different?”

“Different.” I snapped. “Hit by a car.” 

“DUI?”

“No! Fuck!” I shook my head. “It was a kid I was supposed to be watching. He ran into the street and wasn’t looking, I dunno, man.” 

“Oh.” Bryce said, “That’s not your fault, then. Forget about it.” 

“I can’t.” I said. Bryce sighed. 

“Okay, then don’t, I guess? What the hell am I supposed to say?” Bryce asked. “No offense or anything, but we haven’t seen each other in 4 years so this really has nothing to do with me.” 

“Nothing ever does, does it?” I said bitterly. 

“What the fuck, man… Go sober up or something.” 

“Did what happened with Jess have ‘nothing to do with you’? Is that why you’re out of jail and living a normal fucking life out there like it never happened?” I demanded. 

“Jesus, Justin.” Bryce sighed. “I already went to jail for that. What else do you want?” 

“Fucking justice maybe.” I snapped. Bryce was quiet on the other line for a long time. 

“If you’re threatening me, I swear to God my lawyers will destroy you.” Bryce said, his voice low. 

“I’m not talking about me.” I said, quickly. My throat constricted. 

“Good. ‘Cause you don’t have a fucking case, understand?” Bryce said. I wanted to throw my phone. I pressed my palms against my eyes. 

“I’m not coming after you, Bryce.” I said quietly. “But if I were, I would have a fucking case.” 

“Really? Cause I asked you to suck me off once or twice? Gimme a break.” 

“Fuck you.” I spat. 

“Hey, you wanted basketball shoes, free weed, and a place to crash and never offered jack shit in return. It’s called capitalism.” Bryce said in a tone far too light for the words coming out of his mouth. The reminder was like repeated jabs to the gut. 

“Just shut the fuck up.” My words slurred together, but held enough anger to stop Bryce from saying anything else. 

“You never seemed to mind.” Bryce teased. As usual, he didn’t have a fucking clue when he was pushing too far. 

“I didn’t exactly have a choice, asshole!” 

“Still sticking with that excuse?” 

“You fucking kidding me?” I leaned my head against my car, feeling the cool metal against my scalp. Bryce Walker had no clue what it was like to have no options, nowhere else to turn. He had no idea what it was like to be unsure of where his next meal would come from, or if he’d have to sleep on the street or just walk around town all night. Bryce had no fucking idea what it felt like to be desperate, what people were willing to do to protect themselves. 

“Like I said, I’m not coming after you.” I sighed. “I had to, I dunno, talk to someone.” 

“Okay.” Bryce said, and I couldn’t say for sure if I caught a note of relief in his voice. “But I’m not that guy. As far as I know, you have nothing to offer me. I don’t do handouts, man.” 

“I don’t want shit from you, okay!”

“Except my time.” Bryce said. “And I’ve got better things to do with myself than hear another story about how you fucked up. Seriously, dude. Get your shit together, already.” 

“Fuck you, Bryce.” I said. “I hope you got ass-raped in jail, motherfucker.” 

I hung up the phone and rammed it in my pocket, anger pulsing in my temples. I kicked at the gravel, but needed something far more substantial to get my anger out on. I punched my car, feeling pain spike through my knuckles. I gritted my teeth against the pain but did it again. And again. And again. I imagined the door was Bryce and I was knocking his fucking asshole teeth into his face. I cried out in pain as one of my knuckles gave way. I clutched my hand to my chest and clutched my shirt with my other fist. I didn’t know why, but holding onto something always helped me deal with physical pain. That, and some more whiskey. 

 

 

***

 

2 A.M. I double-checked my phone to see if I was right.  _ Fuck _ . I was still holding the half-empty bottle of whiskey and the windows of my car were now covered in a thin layer of foul-smelling condensation. I still had one joint left, but I had to make this one last. I opened the window up and lit my last joint, relishing the feeling that rushed to my head.  My car had turned itself off quite a while ago so I had to start it up again to put my music back on. Technically, I knew I should take the keys out so that I couldn’t be arrested, but I hadn’t seen anyone out here since Alex approached me the first night I came back into town. 

Alex… All of a sudden I wish he’d tap on my window like he had that time. I wanted to see his face, so much older and more mature than it had been in high school. I wanted to see his stupid bleached-out hair that I knew was his way of exerting his limited control over his life. It might have been the alcohol talking, but I wanted to kiss him again. I wanted to see how far I could go before he pushed me away.

I thought of the way he looked at me the last time we’d talked, the haunting disappointment in his eyes.  _ Why am I not surprised? _ They seemed to say, taunting me, urging me to be better yet assuring me I couldn’t. I needed to set the record straight. I needed Alex to know I was done screwing up people’s lives. I could handle myself now. I was getting my shit together. 

I went to turn the keys in the ignition but caught a whiff of the alcohol on my breath and changed my mind.  The last thing I needed was a DUI. I stumbled out of the car, still holding the bottle of whiskey. I put it in a bag like the hobos on street corners did, hiding the label. It was a long walk to Alex’s from here and my legs were already lead, but the coolness in the air and the pulsing in my skin urged me forward. I was gonna make things right. I was gonna show up at his house and explain everything and maybe then he’d understand that what happened with Derek wasn’t my fault. 

 

***

 

I knocked on the front door, hiding the whiskey behind my back and holding onto the brick wall for support. There was no answer so I rang the doorbell. 

“Alex?” I called, knocking and ringing again. I imagined him coming to the door and his face splitting into a smile when he saw me. How nice would that be… 

“Who the hell are you?” A gruff voice asked. A middle-aged man frowned down at me from the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing a robe and clearly pissed off. 

“I’m looking for Alex.” I said, having sort of forgotten what he’d asked me in the first place. 

“Do you know what time it is?” The man growled. By the sound of his voice, I assumed it was late.  _ Oh, shit, right… _ I remembered it being really early when I’d left the park. I chuckled quietly to myself. 

“Oh, shit…” I said, leaning my head against the doorframe. “Sorry.” 

“It’s half past two. In the morning.” The man said, his eyebrows furrowing. 

“Is Alex here?” 

“He lives in the apartment downstairs. It has its own door.” His dad said, the anger in his voice almost palpable. “Did you drive here?” 

“No. No. Not breaking any laws, tonight, sir.” I tried to smile at him and he rolled his eyes with an unimpressed sigh. 

“You’re aware of how rude this little interruption is, correct?” Alex’s dad asked, the judgement in his voice cutting like a knife. It was hard to imagine someone shutting you down as easily as this man could. It made me think about Alex a little differently. 

“Uh… yeah. Yes, sir. Won’t happen again.” I stammered. 

“Better not.” Mr. Standall said, his mouth pressed in one thin line. 

“Sorry.” I called half-heartedly as he shut the door. 

 

I stifled a drunken burp as I made my way to Alex’s apartment. I tripped over the last step and laughed as I stumbled into the wall, leaning against it for a moment to catch my breath. 

“Alex?” I called, knocking on his door. “Alex, it’s Justin.” I rang his doorbell. “I think your dad hates me.” I said, laughing quietly. 

“Alex!” I rang the doorbell repeatedly. It swung open to reveal a disheveled a tired-looking Alex. 

“Justin, it’s almost 3 A.M. What are you doing here?” He asked. 

“I’m here to apologize.”

“It couldn’t wait until tomorrow? When you’re not hammered?” Alex’s nose wrinkled microscopically. 

“No.” I shook my head. “I just had to tell you that I’m not a fuck up, okay?” 

“Uh…” Alex hid a laugh by turning his face away. He pulled me into his apartment and closed the door. “You have a funny way of proving that.” 

“It’s not my fault Derek got hit.” I said. “Or that Hannah killed herself. It’s just not.” I took a swig from the whiskey and shrugged. 

“Okay…” Alex collapsed on his couch and crossed his arms. His eyes were cold and emotionless. His gaze settled on my bruised hand. “What happened, there?”

“Uh… I fell.” I lied. Alex’s eyebrows raised at the blatant lie, but he didn’t say anything. The tightness of his lips and the way his jaw worked was unlike his usual self.

“Are you mad at me?” I asked. 

“Little bit, maybe.” Alex admitted, like he’d been wanting to say it for a while. “I like you, Justin, I really do. But you just show up when you need something. I’m sorry if I want a little more than that.” I sank onto the couch next to Alex. 

“I’m sorry.” I sighed. 

“Yeah, you’re drunk.” He pulled the liquor bottle from my hands and went to the kitchen to get a bottle of water for me. I held it in my hands for a while, unopened. 

“But you know me, right? You know I would never do that shit on purpose!” I said, turning the bottle over and over in my hands, still not opening it. 

“I dunno, man.” Alex sighed with a shrug. 

“The fuck does that mean?” 

“I don’t know what you do or why you do it, Justin. I don’t know  _ you _ . I know about your family and your problems and whatever, but you never tell me anything else. I don’t know what you like, what your favourite colour is, what you want for yourself… Fuck, I thought you hated your step-brother until I saw how torn up you were after the accident.” 

“What… I don’t know what you’re trying to say.” I said.

“I’m trying to say that you can’t have it both ways. You can’t call me up to talk about your problems or show up at my house drunk in the middle of the night and then never hang out with me. I dunno, I just don’t work like that.” Alex shrugged. I finally opened the water bottle and took a long drink, my alcohol and pot-slowed mind mulling over Alex’s words. 

“Green.” I said.

“What?”

“‘S my favourite colour.” I explained. A small smile grew on Alex’s lips. 

“Red.” He told me. 

“Nice.” I took another drink and leaned into the couch cushions. Bryce had never asked me about any of that shit. He’d listen to what I had to say, throw me a blanket, and an unspoken agreement would pass between us.  _ You owe me one _ .  _ What’s yours is mine. _ I never said the words out loud myself, but it had been made plenty clear. Once I’d realized just how much that unspoken agreement entailed, it was too late to back out. I was too far indebted to back out.

Alex was nothing like Bryce. Whatever he did, he did without expecting anything in return. He put other people’s happiness above his own, worked a job he didn’t like to make his father happy. Alex was new territory for me. 

“You okay?” Alex asked, his eyes searching my face. “You really look like shit.” I snorted. 

“Yeah, I know.” I gulped down some more water, my head still swimming from the whiskey. I felt a wave of affection towards Alex and I met his eyes, trying to detect in him the same want that was coursing through me. 

I pressed my lips against his and he pulled back slightly before returning the kiss. 

“You’re drunk, Justin…” Alex protested quietly, though his pupils had dilated and I could tell he didn’t want me to stop. “I can taste it.” 

“It’s okay.” I said, kissing him again. This time it was deeper and I scraped my teeth against his bottom lip. Alex let out a small moan of surprise and pleasure. 

“You sure?” Alex breathed. I kissed the base of his neck as an answer, moving my way slowly up to his jaw. I heard his breathing quicken against my neck. I smiled as I moved my mouth along his jaw and eventually to his mouth again, where his tongue readily intertwined with mine. I ran my hands along his body, feeling the hard muscle of his chest. I moved myself on top of Alex, pushing him into the couch cushions. My hips rocked against his, urging him to match my rhythm. I felt Alex starting to get hard and suddenly realized I was, too. 

“Justin.” Alex panted, his breath hot and quick against my skin. “You don’t have to-”

“Shut up.” I said, taking off my shirt in one quick motion. I’d never initiated sex with a guy before, but it came just as naturally as with Jess. The thought was both scary and exhilarating. 

I pulled Alex’s sweatshirt over his head, kissing at his neck and chest. Alex moaned and his body coiled beneath me. His hands raked over my back and through my hair, each of us trying to hold as much of the other as we could. My hand curled over the bulge in Alex’s pyjama pants and that’s when he jerked back. 

“Wait, wait, wait.” He gasped. 

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” Alex said. “Fuck, no… I just can’t do this right now.” I was suddenly reminded of myself and Jessica, how I was thinking about Alex instead of her. 

“What are you thinking about?” I asked, wiping stray spittle from my mouth. 

“I can’t do this while you’re shitfaced. I just can’t.” Alex plucked his shirt from the floor. 

“Why not? You’re not into me?” I asked. Alex glared at me. 

“You know I am. I just want it to be… I want you to want it as much as I do. Sober.” Alex shrugged his shirt on. 

“What the fuck?” I breathed. “That’s never stopped anyone before.” I said bitterly. Instead of re-igniting some sort of passion, Alex seemed sad and a little pitying. I pushed myself off him and wished the whiskey bottle was still nearby. That, or that I was allowed to smoke in Alex’s apartment. 

“What? You want candles and shit? You want it to be ‘perfect’?” I asked, not bothering to cloak my sarcasm. Alex closed his eyes and sighed. 

“No. I just want you to be yourself. And there’s this thing called  _ consent _ , don’t know if you’ve heard of it.” Alex snapped. His words stung like a slap. I couldn’t find anything to say in return, so I just shrugged. 

“I started it. That’s consent.” 

“Except you’re drunk, so it’s not.” Said Alex. “How do you, of all people, not understand this?” I worked my jaw and shrugged again. “Jesus.” Alex sighed. He wrapped his arms around me, and again I was struck with the realization that this was not the same Alex Standall from high school. He was no longer a spindly kid, quick with the sassy, angry remark. This Alex exuded strength and confidence and his arms were thick and muscular. He’d grown up, just like everyone else. This Alex Standall was mature, he’d gone through hell and lived to tell the tale. He hadn’t let himself be broken down by junior year and his suicide attempt. He’d recovered and come back stronger than ever. 

I wished I could say the same for myself. I wished I could say that I’d bettered myself like Alex, fueled my anger into ambition like Jess, forgotten about it like Zach, or even just been such an asshole that it didn’t faze me like Bryce. But, I hadn’t. Junior year still haunted me, everything that happened with my dad and his gang still appeared in my nightmares, and now I saw Derek lying on the pavement when I closed my eyes. 

“I’m fucked up, Standall.” I said, not really caring whether or not he heard me. Alex leaned his chin on the top of my head. 

“We’re all a little fucked up.” 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Language, drug use, alcoholism, mention of dubious consent relationship, no smut per-se but some sexy time. 
> 
> In case you missed it at the top and/or are a little confused, the Bryce/Justin relationship I hint at is basically shown in my other 13RW fanfic "The Only One" --> http://archiveofourown.org/works/10645311 since those two are my guilty pleasure. 
> 
> Comments/suggestions appreciated, as always :)


	9. Requiem for a Dropout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex and Justin visit Derek in the hospital. They have a heart-to-heart about success and what they want out of life... before getting a bit of much-needed alone time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the super late update! My work schedule has been insane... Anyways, the end of this story is approaching and I'll probably update that within the month.

Alex woke me up by nudging me softly and pressing a bottle of water into my hands. 

“The fuck?” I groaned, rubbing my eyes and taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. “Why am I at your house?” 

“Uh…” Alex surveyed me and chuckled under his breath. “Well, you showed up here around 3 this morning, drunk off your ass.” My stomach sank and churned. 

“Shit.” My mouth tasted like stale beer mixed with morning breath. Lovely. 

“Yeah. You’re really - uh-  _ forward _ when you’re drunk.” 

“ _ Shit _ .” I repeated. “Sorry.” I remembered climbing on top of Alex, grabbing his crotch. I wanted to bang my head off the wall. 

“‘S okay.” Alex said, bringing me a plate of leftovers. He shrugged as he set them down. “Considering it’s one in the afternoon, I didn’t really make breakfast.” 

“Oh. Thanks.” I felt queasy but took the plate anyway, immediately remembering how hungry I was. I shovelled forkfuls of potatoes, corn, and pork into my mouth without thinking twice. 

“Fuck, this is good.” I moaned. Alex watched with a mix of horror and amusement. 

“Jeez. Slow down, for chrissake.” He said. “Don’t make me use my first aid training off the clock.” 

“You saying I’m not worth the time?” I joked between mouthfuls. Alex cracked a smile. 

“No. I’m saying I’d rather not have to use the Heimlich maneuver and get puke on my floor.” Alex said. I stopped eating for a second and stared at him, picking up my eyebrows. “Most people throw up when they get Heimlich-ed. If the person’s doing it right.” Alex explained. I chewed slower, my appetite slowly fading. 

“Wow, thanks for that mental image, Standall. That really makes me want to finish this.” 

“My pleasure.” Alex said, his smirk never disappearing. My hunger overpowered my gross mental pictures of chunks of corn and meat on the floor, so I polished off the plate in no time. 

“Thanks.” I said again. Alex reached into his bag and pulled out a stack of books and what looked like magazines. 

“What’s that?” I asked. 

“Uh… I bought you some stuff.” He said slowly, fiddling with one of the pages. 

“What for?” I asked, “Not scrapbooking or some shit, is it? Please don’t tell me you’re into that.” 

“Not exactly.” Alex chewed at his lip. “This is study material… For the GED…” 

“What?” I wasn’t sure if I was angry or impressed, but either way, my voice rose. 

“I thought you might want to take the test.” Alex shrugged. “I don’t know… A lot of dropouts take it.”  _ Dropouts. _ The word left a sour taste in my mouth. I don’t know if it was a mixture of hungover irritability and the fact that being reminded that I never graduated was a trigger of sorts for me, but Alex’s words sent boiling anger surging through my veins

“So… What? I’m not good enough for you unless I get some fucking piece of paper?” I snapped.

“Jesus Christ! Don’t make this a big deal.” Alex said. I shot him a look I was sure would’ve made other men cower.  “You said you wanted to get your shit together, right? I think this is a good place to start.” He put the books down on the table and my heart dropped as they made a loud bang. I didn’t remember anything from high school. What if I failed the GED, the ‘stupid people’ diploma? Standall would think I was an idiot. 

“I don’t need it.” I argued, wiping some sweat off my palms.

“Maybe not for entry-level construction, but you need it for pretty much every other job there is. Even some promotions. Just saying.” Alex folded his arms and looked at me expectantly. I flipped open one of the books, my eyes widening at the unfamiliar questions. 

“Oh, fuck me.” I breathed. 

“I can help you study.” Alex said. “I had to take my exams before joining the police force. I still remember most of it.” I sighed. 

“Yeah, except you were actually smart.” 

“So are you!” Alex said. 

“Bullshit.” I laughed. “Do you even know what my GPA was?” 

“Skipping class and showing up high probably didn’t help.” Alex said. I shrugged. He’d only known me for one year. He hadn’t seen my transition from the hardest working kid in the class to the slacker who showed up halfway through classes with bloodshot eyes. He hadn’t seen me struggle over course material, having to read it ten times more often and study twice as hard as my peers, just to be told that I wasn’t ‘applying myself’. After a lifetime of studying for hours just to get worse grades than people who forgot about the test, sue me for losing my motivation. 

“True.” I shrugged. Alex hid a smirk by picking up one of the textbooks and opening it in front of him.

“English shouldn’t be too hard. It’s basically just grammar and stuff. As long as you look over it a bit, you should pass that section pretty easily.” Alex pushed the book into my lap and I let out my breath slowly as its weight settled on my thighs. 

“Fucks sake…” I said, flipping through the pages. Semicolons and colons? I’d always hated those fucking things. “I don’t know, man.” 

“Trust me. Once you get into it, you’ll be fine.” Alex put his hand on my shoulder and my skin tingled in a way that was definitely not supposed to happen between two friends. My eyes found their way towards his before Alex finally kissed me, stone-cold sober. I felt myself break into a smile. 

“For once I don’t taste like alcohol, huh?” I said. The corner of Alex’s mouth tilted up. 

“Nope. This time it’s  _ old _ alcohol and pork. Even better.” Alex said with a laugh. A flush creeped up my neck. 

“Oh, fuck you!” I said, my smile so wide my mouth started to hurt. Alex’s eyes raked over my face, his expression unreadable. “What?”

“I don’t know… It’s just nice to see you smile like that again.” Alex said. “Because of… Well, it’s just nice.” 

“Because my life’s a full-out mess?” It meant to sound like a joke, but came out as downright depressing. 

“No. Just because it’s been a while.” 

 

***

 

I spent almost the entire afternoon poring over books, trying to wrack my uncooperative brain for some long-lost information from high school. I took a break to find out Carl’s shift schedule at the fire station so that I could visit Derek without fear of running into his angry dad. That took all of ten minutes so I had to find something else to waste some time. I cleaned Alex’s kitchen (which was already way cleaner than my kitchen back home) and then watched some trashy reality show about pageant kids. It was quiet as hell when Alex was gone and I was faintly aware of the sound of a clock ticking. I turned the volume up and tried to convince myself that the empty feeling creeping into my chest was anything but loneliness.  

After an hour and a half of wasting time, I started a new multitasking system where I studied during commercial breaks. I like to think it worked pretty well, but the lack of progress I made might argue otherwise. 

“Hey, Justin.” Alex called as he pushed through the door. He raked his eyes over my nearly-empty notebook page and the TV. “Working hard or hardly working?” 

“ _ Jesus _ .” I breathed, leaning back into the couch. “I don’t remember high school being this hard. I’m pretty much ready to blow my brains out.” I threw my pencil down and massaged my temples. Alex’s silence made me think over what I said. 

“Shit, sorry.” I backpedalled quickly. “I meant it more as… I dunno. I didn’t… I forgot, I guess. Fuck, that was really insensitive.” 

“Mhmm.” Alex shrugged, though his mouth was pressed in a thin line. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve heard worse.” 

“I’m a dumbass.” I said, “It’s just a thing people say, you know, I -”

“Dude, it’s fine.” Alex said with a small chuckle, “I’m an adult now, I’m not gonna fly off the handle about one stupid comment. If I did that every time I heard something about mental illness or being bi or whatever, then I’d be yelling at people all day.” 

Alex took a seat beside me on the sofa and skimmed the page on the coffee table. 

“Algebra. Damn.” Alex observed. I breathed out a sigh of relief that the topic of conversation had moved on. 

“Hate this shit.” I grumbled. Alex chuckled softly. He corrected a few of my equations and showed me a better method of solving the questions I was getting stuck on. He had a way of explaining things that made it seem like he actually cared if you succeeded and didn’t make you feel like an idiot. 

“Have you heard anything about Derek?” Alex asked. 

“No.” I said, “I’ve been too scared to check my phone, to be honest.” Even just thinking about Derek lying in a hospital bed hooked up to all sorts of crazy machinery made my stomach churn. 

“Want me to do it for you?” 

“No.” I shook my head. Alex raised his eyebrows at me but shrugged. I looked over at the other side of the table, where my phone stared temptingly up at me. “Okay, maybe.” 

Alex picked up my phone and held it towards me at the unlock screen. I put in the password and opened my messages. I turned it away from me as soon as I saw a missed call from the hospital. 

“Nope. Fuck no. I can’t.” I said, swallowing down the bile that had made its way up my throat. 

“Why not?” Alex asked. 

“What if he’s dead, Alex?” I asked, my voice cracking. “What if I fucking killed someone else? I could never -”

“Hey. No. Let me stop you right there.” Alex said, his hand closing on my bicep. “First of all, Hannah’s death was on all of us, everyone who ever knew her and let her down.  _ You _ didn’t kill anyone. And as for Derek, that was an accident. He wasn’t looking when he ran into the street and the driver didn’t react fast enough. That’s not your fault, okay? It’s not.” 

“I was supposed to be watching him.” I said. “And it was  _ my _ ball he was going after. If he dies, I just… I dunno. I’ll hate myself.”  _ More than I already do. _

“And that’ll fix the whole situation, won’t it?” Alex said. “‘Oh Justin feels like shit, that makes everything better for everyone!’” 

“Fuck off, Standall.” 

“You know, I hated myself after what happened with Hannah. I tried to commit suicide, for god’s sake! But you wanna know what I realized after I recovered? That self-hatred and self-destruction does  _ nothing _ . It just makes everything worse for you and everyone around you.”

“So what am I supposed to do? Fuck up people’s lives and then act like nothing ever happened?” I asked. I tried to match Alex’s level gaze, but I could feel my eyes watering. 

“No. Of course not.” Alex said, sighing and running a hand through his artificially blonde hair. “You’ve gotta try and make it right. As much as you can, at least. But then you’ve just gotta forgive yourself.” 

“And what if I can’t do that, huh?” I snapped. “What if it’s not that easy?”

“I didn’t say it was  _ easy! _ It’s the hardest damn thing in the world.” Alex said. “But you can’t get on with your life until you just... let the guilt go. It’ll kill you. I know. I’ve been there.” I closed my eyes and heard Hannah’s voice over in my head, the accusation, all the pain I knew I caused. Then I saw Derek with blood coming out of his head, his body lying splayed on the pavement. 

“He’s dead, isn’t he?” I whispered hoarsely. “You saw something on my phone?” I couldn’t make myself look at him. I didn’t want to know the answer.

“I don’t know.” Alex finally said. “You’ll have to call the hospital back.” I shook my head. 

“I can’t do it, Standall.” I said. “I fucking can’t.” My hands were shaking so I put them under my thighs to stabilize them. 

“Then we won’t call.” Alex said, getting up and taking off his jacket. He threw on a T-shirt instead of his sweater and I found myself staring at his body for far too long. “Get up and get changed, we’re going to the hospital.” 

“What?”

“You don’t wanna call? Fine. We’re going.” Alex said. His smile was so wide and self-satisfied that I couldn’t say ‘no’. 

 

*** 

 

“Justin Foley. I’m here to see my brother. His name’s Derek.” I told the lady behind the counter, my fingers drumming constantly on the cheap grey-blue linoleum. The fact that the nurse just nodded and typed some stuff into her computer lifted a weight off my shoulders and I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.  _ She would’ve reacted differently if he was dead _ ,  _ right? _ I asked myself as I breathed slowly to calm my nerves. 

“He’s actually been moved to pediatrics.” The nurse told me.

“That’s not where the dead people are, is it?”

“No… That would be  _ pathology _ .”

“Oh thank god! Holy fuck, thank god!” I shouted, my eyes tearing up. I felt my face break into a smile. I looked over my shoulder at Alex, who was watching my reaction with an indecipherable expression playing on his features. “You’re a fucking angel!” I told the nurse. She blushed and tucked a lock of brown hair behind her ear. 

“Just doing my job, sir.” She said. 

I got the information for the pediatric ward from her and nearly raced to the elevators, Alex hot on my heels. He was still wearing that ridiculous half-grin. 

“What?” I said. 

“I don’t know…” Alex shrugged. “You just surprise me sometimes.” I rolled my eyes. 

“Okay.” 

“I mean, Justin Foley from high school… I dunno… I think I judged you a little too harshly back then.” Alex said. I tried to fight the flush creeping up my neck.

“I was sort of a dick.” I chuckled. “I’ll admit.” 

“Not always.” 

“Enough, though.” I said, throwing a short, self-deprecating laugh in there for good measure. Alex didn’t say much. “I judged the hell out of you in high school too, to be honest.” I admitted. “I thought you were way too extra. Kind of a hipster, rockstar wannabe type.” 

“Jesus, Foley, tell me how you really feel.” Alex laughed. 

“ _ Felt! _ I don’t think that  _ now _ .” I said. 

“What if I told you I missed being a rockstar wannabe?” He asked. I met Alex’s gaze and smiled tentatively, trying to gauge whether or not he was serious. His expression didn’t change. 

“You for real?” I asked. The elevator finally arrived at the pediatric floor and we stepped out. Even being so close to where Derek was probably lying couldn’t manage to divert my attention for mine and Alex’s conversation. “Holy shit, you’re serious.”

“Maybe I don’t miss the septum ring, but  _ music _ ? Hell yeah.” 

“Why aren’t you still doing it, then?” 

“Don’t have the time!” Alex said. I wasn’t buying it and I think he could tell because his face changed and he sighed. “Okay, I’m maybe a little scared that I’ll love it too much if I get back into it and I’ll want to do it full time.” 

“Then do it full time!” I said. Alex chuckled and shook his head like I was a kid talking about a crazy-ass pipedream. 

“Nah.” He said. “It’s a hobby, not a job.” Alex clicked his tongue and sighed in a way that signalled that he was done with the conversation. I couldn’t help but think that that line sounded like something his dad would say. 

“Fuck that.” I sighed. Alex shook his head and I could almost see him biting back the quick replies I’d left wide open, most of them along the lines of ‘who are you to say anything about ambition’. I made my way to the desk and got permission and directions to Derek’s room so that Alex and I didn’t drift into an argument. 

 

I could feel Alex brooding behind my back as we stood in front of room 228. I kept sighing deeply, then holding my breath like I was about to summon up my courage, and then I let it out dejectedly as the resolve faded from my body. 

“You gonna go in?” Alex asked, any residue of our unfinished conversation suppressed or forgotten. 

“Gimme a minute here, Standall.” I snapped automatically. I sighed again. “Sorry. I’m kind of on edge. I need to… I dunno…”

“Get ready?”

“Yeah. Something like that.” I shrugged. I’d been in hospitals a thousand times before, except I was usually the injured one. I hadn’t realized how hard it was to be on the other side. Alex squeezed my shoulder and I wished I could just lean into him, let him absorb some of the stress and self-hatred coursing through my body. The seemingly never-ending stream of other people passing through the hallway held me back. 

“You think he’ll be awake?” I asked. Alex shook his head and smiled apologetically. 

“I don’t know.” 

“Fuck.” I breathed, wiping sweaty palms on my jeans.  _ Here it goes _ . I pushed into the room without thinking and immediately my eyes welled up with tears. There he was, this fragile little kid whose smile could light up a room, this 8-year old who just wanted to play baseball and be accepted. He didn’t deserve to be lying in a hospital bed hooked up to all sorts of beeping machines that did god-knows-what. He deserved to be out there swinging on a fucking swing set or something. If I could’ve switched places with him then and there, I would’ve. 

“Derek.” I croaked, taking a seat on the well-worn chair next to the bed. I wondered how many other family members had sat in this very chair next to their loved ones. Maybe Carl had already been here earlier, sitting with his son before his shift started. “Look at you, buddy. You’re all fucked up.” 

Derek didn’t move. His eyelids were dark and his face looked too pale. There was a large scrape on one side of his face, partly covered by the bandage wrapped around his head wound. I suddenly wondered if Alex had looked something like this after his suicide attempt. I wished I’d heard about that in time to visit him during his recovery. I wished I’d done a lot of things differently back then. 

“If you wake up, I promise I’ll buy you ice cream every single day.” I said. “Oh shit, I mean sorbet… Or whatever lactose intolerant kids eat instead of ice cream.” 

Derek’s eyelids never shifted and his fingers didn’t so much as quirk. 

“I’ll play baseball with you at the  _ real _ diamond, not that shithole park.” I said. “I can beat up those asshole rich kids who annoy you. I’ll do whatever. Just… wake up. Come on.” I leaned forwards against the bed, my head in my hands. I wrapped my fingers between his. Derek’s hand felt too small, too fragile. There was a soft knock on the door. 

“I’ll just be sitting outside, okay? Tell me if you need anything.” Alex said. I couldn’t force myself to move, but I tried my best to nod. Within a few minutes of the door shutting behind Alex, I was fast asleep, my breathing in cadence with the rhythmic beeping of Derek’s heart monitor. 

  
  


_ A car rolls aimlessly down the highway at night, going increasingly faster. The speedometer shows its speed rising dangerously high.  _

_ “Slow down.” Justin calls. Alex’s foot stays on the gas, the engine growing louder. “Standall, I’m not kidding!”  _

_ “What are you yelling at him for? You’re the one driving.” This time the voice is Bryce’s and suddenly Justin is behind the wheel. He looks down at his hands gripping the steering wheel, confused. Derek steps out from the darkness in front of the car and screams. Justin is driving too fast and the boy’s small body crashes into the windshield. Justin slams down on the brakes, but the car keeps moving.  _

_ “What the fuck? What the fuck? Why can’t I stop?” Justin cries. Bryce and Alex laugh. “I’m serious, I just hit someone!”  _

_ “Watch out, here’s another one.” Alex warns. This time it’s Hannah Baker, wrists already slit, blood dripping onto the pavement. Justin can’t stop. He just closes his eyes and holds on as they barrel into her, the teenager’s body crunching beneath the tires.  _

_ “It’s okay. She was already pretty much dead.” Bryce shrugs. Justin turns to look at him.  _

_ “How do I stop this fucking car?” Justin screams, squinting into the shattered and bloody windshield.  _

_ “Come on.” Bryce scoffs. “You know how.”  _

_ “No, I don’t!”  _

_ Two figures are illuminated on the road in front of him, one a dark-skinned girl and another a blonde boy. Justin turns to the backseat. Sure enough, Alex is missing.  _

_ “Fuck!” Justin shouts as they speed towards his friends.  _

_ “You’ll kill them all if you don’t do what you have to do.” Bryce laughs. “Alex, Jess, your mom… It’s a matter of seconds now.” _

_ “What the fuck am I supposed to do?” _

_ “If you don’t know, then you’re even worse than I am.” Bryce’s laugh grows maniacal as the car closes in on its next victims. Justin grips the steering wheel and jerks it sideways, sending the vehicle surging into the forest. Except there is no more forest anymore. Justin’s car is now free-falling off a cliff. He screams.  _

_ “Congratulations, Foley.” Bryce says. “You figured it out.”  _

 

I jerked awake, my eyes burning from the sudden onslaught of hospital lights. I could feel sweat on my neck and in my armpits. It cooled quickly in the overly-airconditioned room. I tried to slow my breathing down, wondering what the serious fuck that dream was all about. 

“Justin?” A small voice asked. I looked down at the bed and a smile split my face. 

“Holy shit! Oh thank god!” I hugged Derek so hard I thought I might break him. He laughed. 

“Where’s my dad?” He asked. I tried not to let my face drop as much as my heart did. 

“At work, dude.” I said. “I can call him, though. Tell him you’re up.” 

“Mhmm. Okay.” He shrugged. “What happened?” 

“Uh…” I started. “We were playing baseball and you got in a little accident.”

“My arm hurts.” He said. I choked out a nervous laugh as my eyes landed on the cast covering his left arm. 

“Yeah. I know.” I squeezed his good hand and ran my fingers through the bit of hair that wasn’t covered by his bandage. “How’s your head, though? Everything good up there?” Derek shrugged. 

“I might end up retarded like you.” Derek laughed. I faked a gasp. 

“Oh! That’s how you want to play this?” I said. “You little shit…” I tickled his side under the covers, Derek giggling and springing away. His little kid-laughs quickly turned into a cry of pain and I stopped cold. 

“Sorry. You okay?” I asked. Derek nodded. “They’ll probably send a doctor in here soon. He’ll check you all out.” 

“Will I need a wheelchair?” Derek wrinkled his nose.

“Yep. And a full-body cast, you little gimp.” I said. Derek frowned. 

“Liar.” He said. I chuckled. 

“You’ll be fine.” I told him. “You’ll get that arm thing off and be back to playing baseball in no time, trust me.” 

“Okay!” Derek’s smile lifted some of the guilt off my chest. I squeezed his hand again and got up, pressing the nurse call button. I figured they probably wanted to check up on Derek now that he was awake.

Within a few minutes, nurses were ushering me out of the room and telling me to take a seat. Despite my assurances that I’d stay out of the way, I found myself pushed out the door anyway. I sunk down in the chair next to Alex, who was fast asleep. I felt a warmth spread across my chest as I thought of him waiting out here for so long. He looked so peaceful now; there was no crease between his eyebrows, no over-thought cop expression, no sign of overthinking all his actions to appear put-together. I thought back to my dream, Alex standing on the street about to get run over by my car… Alex was the best thing to happen to me in a while. God help anything or anyone who’d try and hurt him. 

I leaned my head against Alex’s arm, my cheekbone fitting nicely in the curve in his relaxed bicep. My skin was crawling, reminding me of all the homophobic things I’d ever heard, trying to tell me I shouldn’t let anyone see us like this. I was too tired to give a shit. My insides were warm and humming with a weird sense of comfort and belonging. Fuck everyone else. Right now, I just wanted it to be me and Alex. 

Before I could fully drift off, I felt myself violently ripped from my chair. My eyes shot open and I cried out as something popped in my shoulder. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Carl shouted. “I told you I didn’t want to see your face again.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.”

“No. Fuck you and your ‘sorry’s.” Carl hissed. His hand was still wrapped around my arm, pinning me against the wall. “You drop a plate on the floor, you can be sorry. Get my kid hit by a fucking car? ‘Sorry’ doesn’t cut it. ‘Sorry’ doesn’t mean shit to me.” 

“I fucked up! How many times do I have to admit that I -”

“I don’t want you to admit it! I don’t care. Matter of fact, I don’t wanna see you open your fucking mouth at all. I thought I made that clear.”

“You did.” I said. My voice shook even though I was using all of my willpower to try and keep it level. “But I love Derek, okay? I wanted to make sure he was alright.” 

“Aw. That’s a cute bit of bullshit.” Carl spat. “You wouldn’t know the meaning of ‘love’ if it danced naked in your face.” I used my free arm to try and elbow him in the ribs as hard as I could. Carl’s hand flew to my wrist and I hissed in pain. He clicked his tongue. “Nice try, kiddo.” 

“This is a public place, asshole. What are you gonna do?” I challenged. Carl chuckled.

“I won’t do anything unless you force me to.” 

“Okay, then let me go.” I said. Carl’s hand loosened and I ripped my arm from his grasp. My wrist and shoulder throbbed and I was scared to try and move my fingers. I grabbed my bag from under the seat and shook Alex awake. 

“Alex, c’mon. We’re leaving.” I said, shouldering my bag and waiting for Alex to rouse himself. 

“What’s happening?” Alex asked groggily. “s’Derek okay?”

“Yeah. He’ll be fine.” I said, pulling Alex up. 

“Hey.” Carl said, pointing to Alex. “I’nt that the fucking cop that showed up at my house?” I sighed. I’d completely forgotten about that. 

“Yeah.” I shrugged. Realization dawned in Alex’s eyes and he narrowed them at Carl. 

“Oh. You’re the dickhead that likes picking on smaller guys. Right.” Alex said, sizing up my stepdad. Carl had at least a few inches on Alex, and more than a few pounds of muscle, too. 

“Forget it, Standall. Let’s get out of here.” I said. I hated when people met my family and tried to get involved. It never helped anything. 

“No, Justin.” Alex said. “It’s Carl, right?” He asked, turning back to my stepdad. Carl squared himself up. I swore under my breath. 

“Yeah.” Carl said. 

“Okay. Hi.” Alex said. “I’m Alex Standall, and I just want you to know that I won’t hesitate to fuck you up if you ever lay a hand on Justin again.” I pulled back on Alex’s arm. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” I hissed in his ear. 

“You two boyfriends or something?” Carl asked me. I shrugged. 

“Just friends.” I answered automatically. 

“Alright. Well, enough drama for today. How about you and your  _ friend _ fuck off and leave me and my son alone?” Carl said. I felt Alex tense up and adjust his body. 

“We’re leaving.” I said. Alex reluctantly followed me down the hall.

I waited until I saw Carl slip into Derek’s room before saying anything else. “Standall, what the fuck was that?” I demanded. 

“What? You were just gonna let him make you leave your brother without putting up a fight?” Alex asked. “That’s not like you.” 

“Yeah, well, there are some fights you can’t win.” I said. “And I can just come back when he’s at work. It wasn’t a big deal.” 

“He fucking hurt you, Justin! You have to stand up for yourself.” 

“Oh, fuck off.” I spat. Alex grabbed my wrist and I inhaled sharply between my teeth. There were thick red marks wrapped around my wrist that were starting to bruise on the edges. 

“You can’t just accept this like it’s normal. It’s not.” 

“You’re not my fucking parent, okay? I can take care of myself! I’m an adult!” I shouted. 

“Then act like one!”

“Jesus. That’s rich coming from you!” I countered. “You say I can’t stand up to people, meanwhile you’re letting your dad rule your fucking life. So come down off your high horse.” Alex’s jaw clenched. 

“How exactly am I letting my dad ‘rule my life’, pray tell?” Alex snapped. 

“You won’t do music cause you think he’ll think it’s a waste of time, you’re doing his old job probably just because he wanted you to, and you’re living in his fucking basement!” I said. Alex blinked back the flash of hurt in his eyes and instantly replaced it with anger. 

“We can’t all live in a fantasy where everybody follows their passion and finds their ‘dream jobs’. Music won’t make money. That’s a fact.” Alex said. “As for being a police officer, it’s not just because of my  _ family _ . I spent my whole life being a bystander. I watched bad shit happen and never  _ did _ anything about it! So I said to myself: ‘you know what, if you want the world to suck a little bit less, why don’t you start doing something instead of just getting pissed off?’ Maybe policing isn’t as influential as I hoped it would be, but at least now I can sleep at night knowing I’m trying to make the world a little better than it was yesterday. Sorry if that’s not a good enough answer for you.” 

I felt my mouth gape open a little. Embarrassment crept up my cheeks. 

“Nah, that answer’s pretty good.” I muttered. Alex sighed and looked visibly lighter for a moment, like he’d been wanting to get that off his mind for a while. He looked into my eyes for a little while and I shifted under his gaze, feeling like he was taking a peek inside my soul. 

“I’m just worried for you, sometimes.” Alex said. “You deserve better.”

“Do I, though?” I asked. “Really?” 

“Yes.” Alex said. 

“Why?” I shrugged. “I haven’t done anything worthwhile. I probably won’t. I’ve ruined most of my friendships. The way I see it, this is it for me.”

“What do you mean, ‘this is it’?” Alex asked. I sighed. 

“Just that… I dunno… Everyone knew it in high school. You all knew I’d end up back here working construction or maybe a trade, trying to tell everyone I could about my glory days back at Liberty. I mean, seriously, were any of you surprised?” I said. Alex’s eyes were sad and filled with empathy. “You wanna know what’s ‘it’ for me? I’ll live with my mom and Carl until I can pay my own place, I’ll put up with his shit when I have to, I’ll meet some local girl or maybe a guy, whatever, and we’ll get hitched. Everything’ll be great until my boss is 20 years younger than me and I feel like a schmuck, then I’ll turn into an angry asshole like all the other angry assholes out there. That’s what my bright future looks like, Standall.”

“It doesn’t have to.” Alex said quietly. I scoffed. 

“Who are you kidding, here? I can’t pass the GED. I don’t know any of that shit.”

“That’s why we’re studying it! I can help you pass it!” 

“Okay, say I pass. And then what?  _ Yay, I got my GED!  _ Now, what? I get to be a manager at Walplex? Great.”

“So you’re giving up, then?” Alex said. 

“I dunno.”

“You can do a lot with a GED if you work hard enough. You can even go to college, trade school, whatever. You could get some qualifications, learn to operate heavy machinery... I don’t know. Even if you don’t pass, you can’t just give up.” I sighed and scrubbed my face with my hands. 

“I’m just sick of being a fucking joke.” I said. 

“You’re not a joke to me.” Alex said. “Fuck Liberty and the people who went there. I get it, you think they’re all more successful than you because they’re off in college. I used to think the same thing. Honestly, though, they don’t give a shit. They’ve all got their own lives, so we’ve just gotta live ours and do what we want to do.” Alex shrugged at me like it was the most obvious thing in the world, quirking his eyebrow as an open invitation to agree with him. 

“Fuck Liberty.” I said with a small smile. Alex grinned. 

“There we go.” I felt my smile growing a little and Alex leaned closer to me. I suddenly realized how quickly my pulse was racing. 

“Fuck them!” I laughed. Alex agreed and encouragingly squeezed my shoulder in a way we both knew wasn’t entirely platonic. 

The elevator dinged and we shuffled awkwardly in, both acutely aware of the each others’ thoughts. Alex pressed his lips to mine as soon as the doors shut, and I returned the kiss with even more passion, inhaling his breath and tasting a vending machine chocolate bar on his tongue. I so badly wanted to rip his clothes off right here in this elevator, but Alex kept a steady weight against my arms, like he was somehow sensing what I wanted to do. He kissed his way up my neck to my jawline, nibbling at my jawbone. I exhaled slowly, letting the stress escape my body as a wave of pleasure replaced it. I briefly wondered when I last shaved. Shit. 

When Alex’s mouth finally found mine once again, our tongues entwined like they were born to be that way, each of us sucking with the right amount of intensity, matching the other’s rhythm. I pressed my hands against his solid body, feeling where the curve of his back turned into his ass. I felt a rush of blood flow to my cock. 

The elevator door dinged open again and we sprung apart, fixing ourselves up to look somewhat presentable. An old woman and her friend got into the elevator with us, chatting about a lady named Jane who supposedly cheats at bingo. Alex and I exchanged looks across the elevator, an unspoken agreement about what was going to go down tonight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Language. Guy-on-guy making out (if that bothers you idk why you're here, but I'll write it anyway lmao)... and a bit of violence. Not much, as usual. 
> 
>  
> 
> Comments and/or suggestions for how the fuck to end this are appreciated ;)


	10. A Little Help from My Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin does some soul-searching in the wake of important news. Oh yeah, and he and Alex have sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see, I know... University kicked my ass so I only now got around to finishing this. Big thanks to everyone who read, commented, left kudos, etc. It was much appreciated. 
> 
>  
> 
> Warning: Pretty graphic sex scene at the start.

Standall’s hands worked faster than I’d seen yet. He undid his pants and ripped off my shirt while I struggle to slip out of my Converse. 

“All good?” He breathed between hot kisses on my neck. I hummed with pleasure and nodded. 

“Lights.” I managed. Alex reached backwards to fumble with the light switch and plunged us into near-darkness. Moonlight shone through the small window and across his neatly-made bed, seeming to beckon us. I stepped out of my pants as Alex pressed his mouth against mine, softly at first but growing hungrier by the second. I felt blood rush to my cock and exhaled heavily. 

Standall pushed me back onto his bed and climbed on top, his mouth travelling from my neck down to my chest.  _ Who’s forward now? _ I almost said. His tongue was warm and his stubble itched slightly in a way that was surprisingly arousing. My thighs twitched as his mouth got closer to my cock, which had grown heavy. 

“Holy fuck, just..”  _ suck it already.  _

“So impatient,” Alex chuckled. He ran his mouth tantalizingly across my inner thigh, purposely avoiding my dick.  _ For fuck’s sake, Standall. _ Finally, his hot mouth found its way to the tip of my dick, his tongue flicking and swirling like a pro. One hand gripped the base and pumped slowly as his mouth moved. I felt myself groan in ecstasy. 

“Jesus fucking christ. Fuck.” I panted. His mouth slipped off, my cock suddenly cool in the air. 

“I want you inside me.” Alex said. My dick was throbbing and my head was swimming with pleasure. 

“Whatever you want.” I grabbed his shoulders and flipped him over, roughly enough to get a small half-chuckle from Alex that somehow made my dick grow harder. I fumbled with the lube and spread his cheeks. I worked a few fingers in first, stretching the soft skin of Alex’s ass.  _ Sweet jesus, that’s a nice ass.  _ Alex was twitching with impatience and my erection was starting to hurt. I pushed slowly inside him, the tightness of his ass foreign but unbelievably arousing. The more contact I got, the better it felt. I thrust inside him, his asshole clenching and releasing slightly against the movement. His panting fell in sync with mine as I increased the pace. Sweaty, breathing hard, I gripped the back of his neck with one hand. I could feel his hole flutter against my shaft.

My ass and thighs seized and my hips bucked as a wave of ecstasy rippled through my body. I felt myself come harder than I ever had before and swore under my breath as my hips bucked again. 

“Holy fuck.” I panted, sliding out of him and collapsing on the bed. Alex groaned with pleasure and I reached over to finish him off. 

“Too late.” He breathed with a small smile. I pressed my lips against his, our tongues sliding over each others’. 

“Wanna do it again?” Alex asked.

“Well, gimme a minute.” 

 

***

Even though I’d probably never admit it to anyone, I actually liked working construction. I’d never been one to shy away from hard work or getting dirty. There was just something so satisfying about watching a site grow from a pile of dirt into a subdivision in the course of a summer. It made you feel like you’d accomplished something, like your sweat and sore muscles were actually worth it. I was somewhere near the bottom of the unspoken food chain, but the guys were still pretty accepting. The older men didn’t really associate with the younger guys, but there were enough of us that it didn’t really make a difference. I think I could’ve been good friends with some of these guys if we’d met in a different setting. After spending all day together, none of us really wanted to see each other outside of work except to get drunk once or twice. 

“Yo, Justin!” Marvin called. “Toss me that hammer, pretty boy!” I held up my middle finger at him but sent the hammer his way. He snickered to himself, showing the blank space where his tooth had been knocked out in a fight. “Thanks, doll.” 

“Fuck off, Marv.” I said, fighting a smile. 

“So… You pass the test?” Marv asked, waggling his eyebrows.  _ Fuck _ . I wished to God that I hadn’t told them I took the GED. To be honest, I thought I nailed it. Alex and I had studied and fucked and then studied a little more. We had a system going and I really thought I would kill it. 

“Nah… Fuck it.” I shrugged. 

“D’you flunk it?” He asked, wiping a dirty hand across his forehead. I swallowed down my disappointment and chuckled harshly. 

“I - Kinda... ” Embarrassment flushed my cheeks. “I got drunk and thought it was the day after. Fuckin’ missed it.” I lied. Marv laughed. 

“Shitttttt…” He grimaced. “That’s rough.” 

“Yeah. My bad, I guess.” I shrugged. 

“When’d you find out?” Marv asked. 

“Like two hours ago.” I laughed, the memory still fresh in my head. I’d opened the email on my phone and almost broke down in tears at a stop sign on a random road someplace. I heard a sharp whistle from the ground below me. I looked down to see my supervisor, Charlie, in his reflector vest.

“Jackson.” Charlie called. “C’mere.” 

“Justin.” I corrected. He shrugged his large shoulders to indicate that he couldn’t give less of a shit. I let my breath out slowly. 

“Come down. I wanna talk to you.” Charlie spat a wad of chew into the dirt as I climbed carefully down the ladder. 

“Yeah?” I asked, “Sir?” I thought I should add that for good measure. Most bosses liked being called ‘sir’. 

“Ah, fuck that ‘sir’ shit.” Charlie said. He waved his hand dismissively. 

“Is this about the shift I missed?” I asked, a sinking feeling settling in my stomach. Charlie made a low rumbling sound that it always seemed only big, bearded guys could produce. 

“Lil’ bit. And some other stuff, too.” He said.  _ Shit. _ “I like you, kid. I really do. Knew your mom back in the day.” My supervisor’s eyes took on a nostalgic sheen for a second before he snapped himself out of it. “But I gotta think about my guys and my reputation. I can’t have someone not pulling his weight.” 

“That makes sense, sure.” I said in a voice that was a distant echo of my real one.  _ Damn, this day just keeps on getting better _ . 

“Do you know what I’m getting at?” Charlie said, with a pitying expression I could’ve gone my whole life without seeing again. 

“I’ve just had a crazy few weeks.” I choked with a shrug. 

“I know. I know.” Charlie sighed. He rubbed his rough hands over his face. “I know you guys all have your own shit going on at home. I do, too. Shit happens and sometimes you can’t come in. That’s alright, take a day off. That’s life. But if you’re here, I need you focused.” Charlie cleared his throat and spat into the dirt. He inclined his head for me to follow him accross the site. I trailed behind him on legs made of lead. “I know living with Laryssa’s gotta be a challenge. That’s why I wanted to give you a shot. I think I’ve been pretty fair, right?” 

“Yeah.” I nodded, my throat constricting. 

“I had to write you up for those shifts, but I didn’t mind that too much. When I start to get worried is when I think someone’s becoming a danger to the crew. If a guy’s not paying attention while operating machinery, someone could die. If you’re hammering on a roof and your head’s in the clouds, you’re asking for trouble.” He explained. 

“Did something happen?” I asked. 

“Well, yes and no. That you don’t know is a little concerning, I’ll be honest here. I’ve had a few guys report near misses, most of them because you weren’t paying attention to what you were doing.”

“Yeah, I’ve had a lot going on.” I shrugged. My heart was beating crazily against my chest.  _ I’m being fired, aren’t I?  _ I let my breath out slowly, arranging my face in what I hoped was an expressionless mask. 

“That’s fine, kid. We’ve all got shit on our plates. I understand that. But there’s home, and there’s work. You can zone out if you work at a fucking retail store, but out here you gotta be sharp.” Charlie rested his hands on his potbelly, leaving a streak of dirt on an already filthy t-shirt. 

“I get it. I’ll do better.” I said. I could almost feel my eyes begging him not to fire me. Charlie scrubbed his face again. 

“Shit.” He said, “If I didn’t know your mom, you’d already be gone. I’m a tough love kinda guy, so I won’t lie to you.” I felt my eyes start to sting and had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself in check. “I know you’re a good kid, Jackson, but you gotta get your priorities straight.” 

“Okay.” I nodded. Charlie laid a meaty, calloused hand on my neck. He smelled like cigarettes and soil. “It’s Justin, by the way.”

“S’what I said.” Charlie said. “Keep your head up, alright? You can’t get rid of us that easy.” I forced a smile on my face as he gave my neck a little squeeze. 

Charlie was a nice guy. Come to think of it, he was one of the nicest guys I’d ever met. But like a lot of nice people I’d met in my life, they always made me a little on edge. It felt fake somehow and I kept waiting for them to snap and show the other side of them. Charlie seemed like everything Carl wasn’t; He was supportive, forgiving, consistent and always calm. But I never craved Charlie’s attention like I did Carl’s. There was something about my step dad and the way one look could make you feel so fucking important… It was almost addictive. It reminded me of Bryce. 

The realization tasted like bile in my mouth, but it was accurate. Bryce could lift you up so high you felt like you were flying, just because he made a cryptic joke and slapped you on the back. I’d been addicted to feeling important in his eyes. I’d longed for his approval just like I now longed for Carl’s. I guess that made Alex more like Charlie. Alex was the guy that hid his feelings with quick sarcasm, but was an open book. He’d give you the proverbial shirt off his back if he thought it would make you happy. 

“You okay?” Marv asked as I climbed the ladder back to the rooftop. 

“Yeah.” I said in that same far-off, alien voice. Marv’s eyes widened and he exchanged undecipherable glances with the man next to him. 

I knew myself and I knew my patterns. Just like I’d do anything to get Carl to treat me like his son, I always gravitated towards people whose attention made me feel invincible. The problem with those people, in my experience, were that they were dicks 98% of the time.  _ What the fuck is wrong with me?  _ I thought as I hammered a nail into the small ‘x’-mark on the 2-by-4.  _ Why do I like the assholes?  _ Fuck me. 

I picked up another nail and placed its tip on the next ‘x’-mark. Bryce’s face swam in my mind’s eye, right next to Alex’s. He was an annoying cockroach that kept popping up when you wished he would just piss off. I bet if I said his name 3 times in a row he’d appear in front of me like Bloody fucking Mary.  _ Bryce Walker… Bryce Walker…  _ I swung the hammer and immediately pain shot up my arm. 

“Fuck!” I screamed, clutching my hand. Marv and his buddy stopped dead. Blood trickled from between my fingers. “I’m good… Fuck....”

“No, you’re not. Go home.” Marv said.

“I can’t -”

“Go the fuck home, dude.” Marv said, “That looks bad.” My eyes swam as I looked down and saw a nail protruding from my thumb. I inhaled sharply through my teeth and wrapped it in my shirt. Marv and the guy next to him shared another look and I felt annoyance rise in my chest. 

“You got something to say?” I asked the guy next to Marv. He shrugged and raised his hands in surrender. “Fuck you.” I muttered under my breath as I climbed down the ladder. Fuck this job. I might as well do them all a favour and quit on my own. 

  
*** 

 

I sat in a walk-in clinic for three hours before finally getting the nail taken out of my hand. I guess I hadn’t had enough of hospitals by then because I went to visit Derek afterwards. He’d been steadily getting better over the past the past few days and eagerly talked me through his physiotherapy appointments and how his arm was healing pretty well but they were keeping him for a little longer for observation. I wasn’t sure how severe his head injury was, but his voice was different. It was hard to place it, but on some words it seemed like his brain was working overtime to figure out what he was supposed to be saying. He also forgot a lot of stuff. I knew kids that age didn’t always have the best memories, but hearing him stop in the middle of a sentence and laugh nervously as he tried to piece together his train of thought was like a kick to the gut. 

  
*** 

 

I checked the list in my hand and glanced across the aisle at Walplex.  _ Fuck it,  _ I decided,  _ I’ll splurge a little _ . I put a box of discounted powdered donuts in my cart next to the cases of beer. 

I felt someone’s cart bump into mine and whirled around, ready to go off. After the day I was having, I was an inch away from flying off the handle. 

“Hey.” Jess said shyly. She smiled thinly at me, gauging my reaction. 

“Jess.” I said, though I felt my whole demeanor change. My insides warmed up and melted like butter in my body. 

“How are you?” She asked, taking in the bloody bandage on my hand. Thank god I’d showered and changed at the truck stop near the site, or else I would’ve looked like hell. 

“Fine.” I lied. “Great.” I couldn’t look at her. She would see through me in a second and the last thing I wanted was my ex seeing me lose my shit. 

“Same.” She said, shifting from foot to foot. “Great.”  _ She’s lying too _ . “Alex said you guys are friends now.” 

“Yeah.” I choked out.  _ Alex _ . I shut off my mind to the memory of our elevator make-out session and the night that followed. I wanted more nights like those. Fuck, I wish every night was like that night. I tried not to wonder if the GED thing would affect that or not.

“Or more than friends?” She fished. I shut my face down and she got the hint to back down. 

“How’s Derek? I heard - “

“He’s better.” 

“Okay.” Jess bit her plump bottom lip uncertainly and ran her fingers through her thick, brown hair. My heart ached as I remembered the way that hair felt when it tickled my neck when she kissed me.  _ Pull yourself together, Justin _ . 

“And your mom and her… Carl?” 

“Good.” I deadpanned. She sighed in frustration. 

“Seriously, Justin?” She huffed. “You can still talk to me. We can still be friends. I want that.” I swallowed down a lump in my throat.  _ What I want is never to see you again in my life _ , I remembered her saying to me four years ago. It would’ve almost been easier to hear that right now. 

“I can’t.” I said. Jess’ face fell but she nodded. 

“I get it.” Her voice cracked and I fought the urge to fall in the trap of apologizing and promising friendship that I couldn’t deliver. “What happened?” She gestured to my hand. 

“Day from hell.” I admitted. I wasn’t sure why, but it just slipped out. Surprisingly, something in Jessica’s expression changed. 

“Same.” She sighed. 

“I think I just lost my job.” I blurted. Suddenly, it felt real. “I fucked up.” The implications hit me like a truck. Money was already tight. I might have to sell my car. I had to pitch in for Derek’s medical bills, so there was no way I could afford a place to stay, either. Carl might not let me move back in, Alex might be mad at me… Suddenly I couldn’t take it anymore. I yelled out all the swear words that came to mind and picked up a pickle jar off the nearest shelf and hurled it down the aisle. The satisfying  _ smash _ was like music to my ears. Jessica flinched back and her mouth dropped to form a small ‘o’. 

I didn’t look at her at all, not even when security grabbed my arm and roughed me out the door. 

“Don’t fucking touch me.” I said. “I can get out on my own. Get the fuck off me!” I pulled myself from the security guy’s grip and swore under my breath. He laughed dismissively. 

“Get some eyedrops, kid.” He said with a short chuckle. I gritted my teeth and rubbed my eyes as if that would help them look  _ less _ bloodshot. Goddamn it. 

_ This isn’t fucking fair _ , I told myself. It was exactly what had gone through my mind when read that email. It wasn’t fair. Finally, it seemed like everything was lining up. I had even picked out a few trade programs just for the hell of it.

“Justin! Wait!” Jess’ voice rang out from behind me and I wanted to hit my head against the wall. Of course she had to witness me freak out in a fucking Walplex. 

“What?” I asked, a little more roughly than I’d anticipated. Jess held a plastic bag out towards me. 

“Wow. Don’t thank me too much.” She said. I took the bag and peeked inside. She’d grabbed the powdered donuts for me. I tried to give her a smile but I guess it looked awful because her face fell. “Are you okay?” 

“I fucked Alex.” I said. I didn’t even register it coming out of my mouth, but sure enough, the awkward-ass words were hanging in the air between us. Jess’ eyebrows raised. 

“Okay…” She started. “So… What - Did you both want to?” 

“Yeah!” I said. “Like it was good - great -but... I dunno.” Jess nodded and I suddenly remembered that Alex was her ex. “Fuck. Forget it. You don’t wanna hear about your exes’ sex lives. Just - Forget it.” 

“It’s okay!” Jess said. “I really don’t mind. If that’s what you guys want…” She shrugged a little. I let out my breath and sank to the ground outside the Walplex, leaning against the rough cement wall. Jess followed me down. 

“He’s probably so done with me by now.” I said miserably, breaking the seal on the donuts and shoving a few in my mouth. “ _ Fuck _ .” 

“I mean, as long as it was consensual..” Jess shrugged, “Were you being too greedy or something? Didn’t pay attention to him?” If Jessica felt awkward having this conversation with me, she didn’t show it. 

“That’s really not what I’m talking about!” I said, not really wanting to get into details about my gay sex with Alex to his ex. 

“Had he ever… done it with a guy before?” She asked. I felt a flutter of panic in my stomach and knew that we’d gone a little too far into this conversation to turn back now.

“I’m pretty sure.” I said.

“That’s kind of important, Justin!” Jess said. I swore and put my face in my hands, scrubbing them through my hair. 

“He seemed experienced enough, I didn’t really ask.” I explained.

She lowered her voice. “Wait… Was Alex your first, like -”

“You can say ‘gay hookup’. We’re not in high school anymore.” I said. Jess let out her breath a bit. “And, no, not exactly.” Jess’ eyebrows shot up. 

“Holy shit.” She said. I hoped to Christ she wouldn’t ask who I’d hooked up with and thankfully she didn’t press further. 

“Were you, like,  _ too _ experienced?” Jess asked. I was about to say something sarcastic and borderline rude, but I stopped myself by shoving a donut in my mouth.

“Ah. Fuck. Jessica!” I said through a mouthful of powdered sugar and semi-stale dessert. “There’s nothing wrong with my sex life.”

“Alright… Then what’s wrong?” She asked. I sighed. I’d already spilled one big secret. What was another one? 

“Okay, so…” I started. I stuttered and tried again, letting it out as quickly as possible so I didn’t have to think about what I was saying. “You know how I never graduated? Alex was helping me study for the GED. I took it, and thought I did great. But I guess I was wrong ‘cause I fucking failed.” 

“Oh shit, Justin.” Jess said. Part of me waited for her to laugh in my face and call me stupid. She never did. I ripped a powdered donut in half and nibbled at the inside. “You can try again, though, right?” 

“I dunno. Maybe. I knew everything on the goddamn test. I just froze up, I guess.” 

“Damn.” She said.

“Fuck me, huh?” I said, finishing the donut. Jess sent me a cryptic smile. 

“Nothing’s ever simple with you. Alex knows that.” Jessica said. I chuckled under my breath. “He won’t care that you didn’t pass a little test.”  _ A little test I can’t do shit without _ . 

“Great.” I laughed. Just once, I’d want to be that guy who was easy; I wanted to be the guy that was easy to talk to, easy to merge into his family, and easy to make things work with. That guy would live with both his biological parents, go to college, have a future waiting for him, and would invite his girlfriend or boyfriend to dinner and apologize for his family’s semi-embarassing goodnatured hazing. Alex deserved that guy. 

“What are you thinking about?” Jess asked, her shoulder brushing mine. 

“I guess I just thought it would be easier. You know, coming back and shit.” I shrugged. “I thought I’d get a job, we’d get back together, my family would kinda sort itself out… I don’t fucking know. Now I have a step dad who hates my guts, you and me are done, I got fired, I failed the GED, and Alex… Alex likes me now, but he’ll get tired of me.”  _ Like they all do _ , I added in my head. 

“Hey.” Jess laid a hand on my shoulder. “I talked to Alex a few days ago. I didn’t know who he was talking about, but he told me he met someone.”

“Yeah, I guess he didn’t want to tell you ‘cause I’m your ex.” 

“You should’ve seen his face, Justin! The way his eyes lit up when he was talking about you… He doesn’t just ‘like’ you. He’s falling for you. Hard.” My breath hitched and I couldn’t fight the slow warmth creeping up into my chest as she spoke. “I can tell you for a fact that he has skeletons, too. His life isn’t perfect. Fuck, no one’s is. Alex won’t care about all that bullshit! You’ll find a new job, take the test again, patch things up with Carl, whatever! Just don’t you dare quit and run away, cause you’ll break his heart.” 

“Thanks, Jess.” I said quietly, meeting her soft brown eyes. I felt lingering affection rise up in me, but it wasn’t strictly in the romantic sense. “I hope you meet the best, greatest fucking lawyer and you guys make a kick-ass power couple.” She laughed and brushed the hair behind her ear. 

“If I dump him, he’ll probably turn bi.” She joked. 

“And if he dumps you, I’ll kick his ass for you.” I said. We smiled at each other, and it held all the same warmth that it used to. It was a different sort of warmth, though, that settled in my chest rather than… lower down. 

“Thanks, Justin.” Jess said. “I’m rooting for you, m’kay?” I felt the corner of my lip quirk upwards slightly. I nodded and leaned into the hand on my shoulder. “You and Alex, both.” 

  
  


*** 

 

I didn’t know how to approach the situation with Alex. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I had no idea what to do from here. Construction was my last hope. There was no way in hell I was gonna work some minimum-wage shit, but there weren’t many other options out there for me. I didn’t feel ready to deal with explaining myself quite yet, so I drove around aimlessly for about an hour, fully aware that I was burning gas. As it started getting a little darker out, I realized I only had two options left. The first was to man up and go to Alex’s house, and the second was to go to my mom’s. All my stuff was at one place or the other, minus my work clothes and the spare set I was wearing right now. 

Before I’d fully decided what I was doing, I’d already taken the road leading to the trailer park. I’d have to go back and get my clothes at some point or another, so I might as well do it now. 

The trailer seemed smaller and more run-down than the last time I’d been here. I doubted anything had changed, but in comparison with Alex’s house this place was a shithole. I took the steps two at a time and opened the door without having to unlock it. I tried to be as quiet as possible in case Carl was around. I forgot to check his work schedule in advance and didn’t want any surprises. I snuck into the kitchen and snacked on a few Kraft Singles before shoving some of my clothes and products into a pillowcase. I also took some food and a sweater of Carl’s that I liked just because I felt like it. After my day from hell, I needed a fucking pick-me-up, even if it came in the form of a ratty community college sweater that barely even fit me. 

“Justy?” My mom’s voice was barely audible from the kitchen, drifting in from the living room alongside the faint dialogue of the TV. 

“What’s up, mom?” I whispered, padding into the living room. “We the only ones home?” My mom shook her head and offered me a small smile. She held a finger up to her lips and then pointed down into her lap. I craned my neck to get a better view. 

“They sent him home?” I knelt next to the couch and brushed a stray curl from Derek’s forehead. His breathing was deep and rhythmic, far too similar to how it had sounded when he’d been in a coma. “Hey, man.” 

“He fell asleep on me.” Mom said. I couldn’t tell if she was happy or angry about it. She just seemed indifferent. 

“Poor guy’s probably all doped up for the pain.” I said. Derek still had a cast on his arm, and there were significant scabs on the side of his head. My mom just hummed in agreement and pulled out a cigarette. “You’ll wake him up.” I warned. She glared at me and lit it anyways. 

“Carl’s gonna be home soon.” She said. I clenched my jaw.

“So?” I asked. Mom rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything. She would’ve been pretty if she hadn’t had so many wild years when she was younger. My mom was one of those women that probably broke some hearts back in their day. Alcohol abuse and experimenting with hard drugs had ruined her skin, but if she bothered to just brush her hair or wash her face, I’m sure my mom would look just as beautiful as in the pictures she used to show me of when I was first born. 

“You gonna be around when he comes home?”

“Sure. Why not?” I said. Mom shrugged and took a drag from her cigarette. 

“Okay. Whatever you wanna do, I guess.” She said. I met her eyes. 

“You think he’s gonna be pissed, don’t you?” I asked, watching for her response. She shifted slightly under my gaze. 

“How stupid are you?” She snapped. “How fucking hard is it to keep to yourself and stop stirring shit up?” 

“‘Stirring shit up’? You think that’s what I do?” 

“Yeah, I fucking do. Things are fine, then you start arguing and trying to compare dick size.” Mom shrugged and twirled Derek’s hair around her finger, the kid still fast asleep. 

“Is that how you justify never lifting a finger when your douchebag boyfriends start fucking with me? Cause it’s  _ my _ fault?” I demanded. Mom took a drag from her cigarette and exhaled quickly. 

“Carl’s a nice guy.” She said. I forced a laugh. 

“He’s also an asshole with a wicked-ass dark side, but sure.” I said. My mom leaned over Derek to tap her ash in the ashtray. 

“You’ll learn eventually, hun. Some guys… Some guys have egos and you’ve just gotta…” Her words fizzle out and her eyes watch the smoke twist and curl from the tip of her cigarette. “You gotta learn not to give a shit.” 

“You never had a problem with that.” I said. She chuckled lightly. 

“Hm. Not that you’d remember, I guess.” Her voice was sad and slightly nostalgic and I felt some of my anger melt away. 

“We never needed them, mom.” I said quietly. “It was better when it was just us, you know.” I sank down on the floor, resting my back against the couch. 

“Don’t be an idiot.”

“I’m serious.”

“You’re still a fucking kid, Justin,” she said, “raise a kid alone for a few years and get back to me.”

“What about assholes like Seth? You think you needed them? They didn’t do shit to help with anything!” I said, struggling to keep my voice low as to not wake up Derek. I heard her sigh behind me and felt some of her nails rake gently across my scalp. 

“Justy, no. I never  _ needed _ anyone. You just… no one likes being alone. And they had stuff to offer me, and… You know, Seth wasn’t so bad.”

“To you.” 

“Hmm.” She hummed absently, her fingers still massaging my head. “Wait ‘til you see all the crazy shit life’ll throw at you.” She laughed, “Soon enough, you’ll knock a girl up, too.”

“Except I won’t leave.”

“Hmm. I hope for you that’s true.” My mother said. I could feel the slight edge of judgement in her voice. I’d ran off before, it had already become a habit. Maybe I was one of those guys who’d leave whenever things got hard, the type who’d skip town as soon as they heard the word ‘pregnant’. 

“What if I dated guys instead?” I whispered. 

“Don’t joke about that shit.” Mom scoffed. She let out a small, hoarse laugh. “I didn’t raise a faggot.”  _ You didn’t raise anything _ . 

“I’m not gay, it was just a question.” 

“I don’t get you.” She sighed. Her fingers stopped moving through my hair and I found myself missing her touch. I decided to let it go. 

“I took the GED test. Got my results back.”

“And?”

“148.” I said, “so fucking close.” I could feel the anger and disappointment rising in my chest once again. 

“What’re you talking about? You passed.” 

“No, I didn’t. You need 150.” I said.  _You think I don't know what I needed to pass the fucking test?_ I wanted to scream at her.

“Not anymore. It’s 145.” She laughed derisively. 

“Bullshit.” I said. I pulled out my phone and searched it up. “The books said 150.”

“Must’ve been outdated.”

“Holy fuck!” I shouted as the screen loaded. There it was. A passing grade was 145. “I passed! I fucking passed!” I saw Derek’s eyelids flutter and immediately shut my mouth. “Sorry, buddy.” 

“Don’t worry about him, he’ll be out for a while.” Mom said. “Congratulations, Justin.”

“What?”

“You heard me.” I turned to look at her. Her eyes were still a little bloodshot and her smile was bordering on non-existent, but my chest swelled with pride.  _ Congratulations, Justin.  _ I could count the time’s I’d heard that on one hand. 

I wrapped my arms around her and squeezed, resting my head on her shoulder. 

“Okay, don’t kill me.” She breathed. 

“I love you, mom.” I whispered into her neck. One of her hands brushed the back of my neck. She hummed in what I assumed to be agreement. 

 

***

 

I pulled up to Alex’s place, shaking with excitement. I left my bags in the car and raced the the back door, knocking repeatedly. Alex answered in half of his police uniform, a surprised smile on his face. Just looking at him put me a little more at ease. This was the guy who’d believed in me when I wanted to give up. This was the guy who forced me to be better. With a guy like Alex in my corner, I actually might be able to make something of myself.

“Hi.” He said, looking me over with a little uncertainty. “You seem… excited.”

“I’ve got some great fucking news.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all, folks! Thanks for reading! Feel free to comment ideas for my next fic.

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings will be down here for every chapter. Rated 'M' mostly for themes and some fairly graphic descriptions. 
> 
> Comments and suggestions appreciated
> 
> Also check out my other 13 Reasons Why (also Justin) fic here --> http://archiveofourown.org/works/10645311 <\--- or don't. Idrc.


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